


Just kill me now

by madfourtyfours



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Eventual Relationships, Fluff, Historical, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romance, Temporary Amnesia, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-06-07 00:00:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 47,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6775675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madfourtyfours/pseuds/madfourtyfours
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Its a year after the fall of the USSR, Ivan was falling into a deep pit of depression and alcohol for a year. That is until the American and Russian governments work together to devise a plan that will allow their countries tensions to ease. The plan is for their nations personas to reside together under one roof, until the arch rivals learn to get along. But America is hiding something drastically important from Ivan, something allowing America to surprise him in more ways than one. But what could it be?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lets think of the future, not the past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for any spelling or grammar errors now or in the future!

The date is January 2nd, 1993. The beginning of a new year. Ivan hoped it would be better than the last year, or the last 80 years before then. He was as stressed in the past years as he was when that Mongolian wouldn't stop bullying him when he was just a land of poverty a long time ago. 

Well maybe not that stressed but pretty close, not as many people were being brutally murdered in the past few years. But ever since the Bolshevik takeover, by Lenin, he was stressed and even a little scarred, but with Stalin it only got worse. Much worse.

While yes Lenin forced out the influences of western culture in Russia, which Ivan found painful to think about. Stalin changed everything, and if you didn't also believe in his ideals you were killed. The Stalin Purges were a tough time for Ivan, he also didn't like thinking about that either. If he did, sometimes he could hear the agonizing screams of the past. 

All those innocent people worked to death or killed…Things have changed though, recently Ivan had so many new friends in his home for a long time. But just like dogs they ran out the door as soon as it was open, abandoning the one who cared and loved them. He didn't need those un-loyal mutts anyway, he was just fine by himself.

Ivan looked out of his once lively mansion. It was snowing outside, it is always snowing. The cold didn't bother him anymore, he long ago grew numb to the sting of ice. Ivan was standing, staring placidly at the strong snowstorm outside the large arched windows in his room. His room smelt of alcohol and smoke from the dying light in the fireplace, which was the only light provided in the room. 

His bed was free from any wrinkles, showing Ivan had not even bothered to sleep in it. Or sleep at all for that matter. There were many bottles of vodka and other intoxicating beverages on the ground. Ivan himself hadn't showered in a few days, and has been in the same clothes for the longest time. He knew he looked awful.

Ivan would have felt embarrassed of the mess if someone were to walk in, but at this point he didn't care. He also doubted anyone would break him of his time of solitude anyway. Nobody cared, not even his sisters who were gone as well. Ivan was more depressed, sad to say(no pun intended), than stressed now. At least that was what he self diagnosed from his most recent, and many, drunken stupors combined with lack of sleep. 

Tonight was different from other nights though. While yes he still drank and didn't sleep he was thinking of the future instead of the past. Not of his unfaithful friends but of an enemy. In the last 40 years or so Ivan has been at war, well close to it. The tension between he and America in the last half decade had been negative and exhausting. Never would Ivan have thought someone, like America, would ever be able to stand toe to toe with him. Most now cowered, hid away, or obeyed him. 

But not that damn nation of freedom. No he did none of those things, only antagonized him. Which Ivan returned with no regrets. It was like they were holding guns to each other trying to get the other to shoot first; thus that person being the cause of their nuclear war. It was so close to happening for a long time, so very close, Ivan could almost see his beautiful cities turned into ruble. But it never happened. While neither of them said this to one another they knew the consequences of a nuclear war, the devastating effects.

The United States of America was to put it simply annoying, audacious, young fool. But one thing he wasn't was weak. Ivan knew this fully well and has been wary of it during their many years of tension, for both Ivan and his fellow russians.

The next morning Ivan got a call to be at his Russian White house by 2pm this afternoon, dressed appropriately, that's all he was told. Not even getting any sleep the night before, Ivan was getting ready much earlier than he needed. He also decided to venture down into his large kitchen and eat something simple. He ended up taking his porridge to eat in his room, not daring to eat alone on that humongous dining table. 

The house had not been taken care of, dust and other countries belongings lay all over the floor. Small things his old friends felt they wouldn't need to come back for as they hurried out the door. It hurt to look at the belongings, and instead focused on the old paintings that hung in rows in the long hallways. The rich light blue wallpaper on the walls behind the art seemed to make his eyes focus on the beauty of the art pieces, he was happy he picked that color. It was a lovely color.

Once it was half past 1 rolled by Ivan decided to leave his house. It was below freezing again, which was expected, they ere in the middle of winter. Ivan hasn't left his home in the past 3 months so it was nice for a change to go outside. Moscow was as lively as ever, adults and children alike walking the streets, not even noticing the cold temperature and thick snow falling around them. His people were so strong, he smiled at that thought. 

Once reaching his destination after some slight delay by traffic at the crosswalks, he was on his way to Boris Yeltsin’s, the new “President” of the Russian Federation, office near the middle of the building. He admired how this new government building looked, bigger and more powerful than America's white house, which he pointed out to America whenever national landmarks were brought up. Not to mention the buildings interior was so much more pleasing to look at.

The white and gold features complimented one another, the architecture making it look even more sophisticated than possible. The floor was a lovely type of granite, easy to clean and matched the red row of carpets that covered most of the floor. He took a turn down the hallway to his destination, security guards didn't stop him on his way knowing exactly who he was, even after not being seen for 3 months. 

He was almost happy to be needed again, since the fall of the USSR Ivan hadn't been really needed government wise. Not that Ivan would have given them help, his attitude was not the best after his friends left. But it was nice to be needed again, god only knew Ivan needed to get out of the house.

He came to the heavy oak double doors and opened them himself smoothly, letting himself halfway in the office before he froze. What he did not expect to see once he entered the room was the face that he despised the most for 40 years. Ivan hasn't seen him since before the fall of the USSR, not really looking forward to the mocking he would receive. 

The American was standing stiffly and tense. On guard? He was standing next to President George H. W. Bush, who was seated in a elegant red arm chair across from Yeltsin. Ivan was happy he did end up showering and dressing nicely this morning before coming. It would have been embarrassing to come looking disheveled. Ivan inwardly thanked Yeltsin's personal secretary who told him that he needed to look presentable. 

This morning Ivan decided on a simple black suit, with black tie. With, of course, his precious white scarf. It also made sense on why they didn't tell him about the meeting, he would have not should up if he knew who would be here. Ivan was not happy about this at all.

“Ah Ivan, please come in. We have been awaiting your arrival,” Yeltsin stated from behind his large brown desk, it looked like he cleaned it since all the papers were in neat piles on the sides. He motioned for Ivan to come beside him. Ivan had other plans though. 

“What is he doing here?” Ivan asked quickly changing his shocked expression to his usual smile, he hoped nobody noticed. He walked in, taking long strides toward the American who seemed to be staring back at him with an angry look, but also standing his ground. Ivan walked close enough to be in America's personal space, the two locked eyes in a small fight for dominance. It was hard with Ivan being so much taller than the American; causing him to look up some. Ivan’s face remained calm, violent eyes staring into a pair of determined blue ones that were behind pairs of glass.

“You would know if you weren't so busy being a crying bitch to actually pay attention to the world around you,” Alfred exclaimed smoothly not backing down, looking proud of the last comment. Ivan smiled more, he liked this game. It was so easy to rile the American up, and he knew exactly how to respond.

“You dare call me condescending to my own surroundings. That's hypocritical don't you think? When all you do is carry around the North American map.” Ivan could see America's proud face turn sour.

“T-that was one time! I swear to god Ivan if you bring it up again i'll-” 

“That's enough Alfred!” President Bush stated pulling America's suit sleeve back from Ivan to where he continued sitting.The Russian smiled at yet another chance.

“Yes, could you please control your mutt Mr. Bush.” Ivan said smirking, pausing their game, and walking next to Yeltsin who was giving Ivan an exasperated look. Ivan didn't care, he did not fear this leader of his country unlike his former ones, and could do what pleased him. 

There was also the fact that Ivan intimidated Yeltsin very much so. But who wasn't, only idiots weren't. Ivan knew he was strong, the strongest, although he wished he didn't intimidate everyone. He enjoyed companionship, it was only human nature to. His human side caused so many problems as of late, it's why he was conflicted, and most recently depressed.

America gawked at Ivan and motioned madly with his hand at the russian, all the while looking at his president frustrated. There was a silent conversation there Ivan didn't understand. That was also an odd gesture, just like a kid, Ivan thought while standing next to Yeltsin, hands lazily moving to rest behind his back. The American president simply shook his head after a while and turned back to Yeltsin. 

“Alright now that everyone is here, shall we start with negotiations.” 

Ivan didn't listen to the meeting. He didn't care, he could easily assume it was for their country's tensions and their hopes of easing them. Instead Ivan continued staring at the man across the desk. America faced him had his arms crossed and locked eyes with the Russian, his ocean blue eyes unwavering.

America's head was held high, chest puffed up, making him seem slightly bigger than before. This contest of theirs was almost tradition, it started right after WW2 when problems started arising. Of course when asked a question they would answer and make eye contact with their inquisitor; they both had manners.

Their battle for dominance resumed yet again that afternoon, the tension in the room growing as per usual. As Ivan beamed he couldn't help but take in the appearance of his now “former” enemy, which he always seemed to do, he wore a navy blue suit with a simple darker blue tie and a sky blue dress shirt. It looked like the american air force uniform but less complex. Ivan couldn't help to think it was a nice choice of color since it brought out the younger country's eyes. 

They bore into each other for what felt like hours but maybe was only 30 minutes, Ivan wasn't exactly sure. Sometimes they would break away to agree or disagree with something one of their leaders said. Today's meeting their dignitaries were talking of the “STATE II.” A bilateral treaty that in hopes would calm the fear of nuclear weapons from one another. 

The plan made since and both personified countries and leaders agreed on the same thing for once. It was odd agreeing with America, usually they did opposite to whatever the other wanted. But his large empire fell a year ago, and things changed. While their delegates kept conversing, specific negotiations for the STATE II, America and Russia kept glaring at each other. Until something that has never happened before in their long mental battles occurred. 

America sighed, letting out a long breath through his nose and steadily turned away, towards President Yeltsin who was talking about future goals. To say Ivan was confused was an understatement, he was flabbergasted. It took all of his strength to not open his mouth in astonishment. He knew this game was petty, yet he couldn't believe America was mature enough to end it. 

Nobody kept score, but whoever gaze wavered first lost, it was an unstated but accepted rule. While whoever won got the satisfaction of doing so. Ivan maybe even sometimes looked forward to this simple interaction. But America lost on purpose.

Why was it different now? Was it because their cold war had died down? I guess there really wasn't any reason for them to compete all the time now, but it made Ivan's nerves stand on end. It was too quick a change to be comfortable.

They played their game plenty of times before, mostly at meetings both the countries were forced into. He remembered that one time at the Potsdam conference, Russia, America, and England had been sitting around their table next to their delegates who were arguing. There was a lot of conflict between their leaders during 1945. They were of course not paying attention instead going through their silent contest. 

Only occasionally giving their opinions on a matter. It was the first time they did this. America just kept staring at him and Russia felt the invitation for competition and immediately agreed. He wasn't one to back down. It lasted one of the longest, neither one of them refusing to break eye contact, not even when the meeting was dismissed till the next day once the hour got to late.

Ivan remembered England asking America to leave with him, but America refused telling the brit he would he meet up with him later. Neither talked, but yet there was conversation. Silent promises of violence. But there was something else too, something only America knew of and didn't share. 

Ivan figured it was his imagination. But those sparkling eyes held not only hate and competition, but also dismay? America’s eyes were determined and angry, but his eyebrows were slightly up. Almost regretful looking. His lips were pulled taught in a line. While Ivan always gave off his usual smile, something that just came natural to Ivan now.

After a few hours, it must have been very late, America changed positions to rest his head on his hands, it didn't take long for America’s to eyes to start fluttering. They looked heavy, and soon after his eyes finally slipped shut. His face fell forward on his hand, but didn't fall. Neatly cut golden locks hung a little over of his long eyelashes. His glasses were on the tip of his nose, dangerously close to the edge. 

Ivan was shocked but he laughed softy, he thought the american an idiot, who would fall asleep next to their rival so easily. America was young and just finished half a war, Ivan forgot sometimes that he was also fighting the Japanese at the time too, he must have been tired. Still how he was able to let his guard down surprised Ivan the most.

It was the time right before their tensions actually grew to hot to burn, so Ivan didn't take advantage of the younger country then. Years ago, if he was in the same situation, he wouldn't have hesitated pushing the american’s arm where he rested. That way his head would fall on the desk painfully with a lovely bang. 

Instead Ivan smiled contently at the satisfaction of winning, knowing it would drive America crazy for weeks, and left grabbing his long overcoat on the way out. He remembered seeing England in the corner of his eye going in right after him to check on America, he was standing outside the room waiting for them. 

England said he wouldn't get involved in this potential war and he really meant it. But he obviously still cared for his former son. Ivan thought it was sweet, and was a little jealous. He wished someone truly cared about him that much.

This time his winning was different, America gave up. Maybe he realized this contest was foolish, that Ivan was just appeasing him. If America turned and listened in on their presidents it must be important.

“And that's why I would like to recommend that the Countries of America and Russia learn to coexist passively to strengthen relations.” President Bush stated to Yeltsin. This quickly caught Ivan’s attention. Where was this going? Ivan looked to America confused, but America kept looking straight at Yeltsin, face emotionless. He figured the american knew about this, it's why he started paying attention more. It also explained why he wasn't freaking out as much as Russia right then.

“Hmmm, please elaborate for me President Bush,” Yeltsin asked obviously interested. 

“Well America and Russia for the past 46 years have had high dangerous tensions as you know, and still do somewhat. The United States of America would like to prevent this still potential war in anyway, especially nuclear war. This could be prevented by increasing interaction; thus leading to peace.” Bush took a large breath before speaking again.

“We believe it would be an excellent idea for Russia and America to reside together in the same household. Hopefully the interaction between the two will lead to the pacification we need.” Ivan's eyes widened. Countries did this quite often for the same reasons, but Ivan was more shocked about the stubborn american accepting this. 

“...I understand what you are thinking Mr. Bush, can you please excuse me and Mr. Braginsky here to talk it over?” Yeltsin asked while getting up, he was nervous.

“Of course,” Bush answered a smile on his face. It was his idea for them to coexist in the same environment. Ivan could see America looking away now, eyes scanning the room, looking everywhere but Ivan. Unlike most moments, this time he couldn't tell what America was thinking. Ivan didn't like the idea one bit, and could guess America was probably forced into it. It was the only way America would ever do this. Ivan on the other hand would not be forced into anything, he was stronger than that. 

Ivan closed the large double doors behind him as Yeltsin started to sigh and turn to ask Ivan's opinion.

“What do you think?”

“No,” Ivan answered swiftly. He really just wanted to go home at this point. This day was turning out to be more exhausting than expected.

“..Ivan, think about it. The offer we just received it a fantastic idea. It will no doubt help our relations. We can use that to our advantage more peace means we can trade more with America; which leads to more money,” Yeltsin reasoned enthusiastically. 

Yeltsin was correct in this matter. But Ivan's pride held strong. The idea of living with America made him almost want to vomit right there. He would be much too close to his enemy for comfort; he would never be able to relax. He would have to live in a messy home (not like Russia’s home wasn't messy, he was just depressed, It would be cleaned eventually) he would never get a break from that annoying laughter either. Dear god he could only take so much of those ear splitting guffaws. 

“No, I don't want to,” Ivan stated again, this time more firmly all the while moving closer with an intimidating smile, hoping to make his leader back down. Which Yeltsin did immediately after a sigh not even making eye contact with Ivan, the man was smart. 

“Alright. Alright. If you feel you really can't deal with him that much, I understand.” With that they walked back into the large office. The large windows behind the desk showed the snow, which was now slowing down. They were quicker to return than anticipated by their guests, whom were talking among themselves quietly. Alfred sitting on the arm of the chair President Bush was residing in casually. 

“I'm sorry, but i'm afraid we have to decline your offer Mr. Bush. But I believe we can still go through with the START II treaty we decided on,” Yeltsin stated while walking in and taking a seat now in the matching arm chair next to President Bush instead of behind his desk. 

“Hey Ivan,” America turned towards Ivan, getting up from the side of the chair.

“Can we, uhh, speak in private?” America asked, his face was serious while walking over to the door Ivan just entered through opening one of the doors up and waiting for him. He didn't even wait for Ivan’s response. 

“...Da,” Ivan answered warily. What is he planning? Ivan thought walking past America's smaller form, who held the door for him. Then after they both went through he closed the door quietly behind him with a sigh, not bothering to turn around and look Ivan in the eye. 

“I get why you don't want to do this, hell I didn't want do it either. But just listen alright, to be honest our citizens need this.”

Ivan was surprised by the youngsters handling on the matter. America was full of surprises today.

“How do you know what my people need?” Ivan asked accusingly. 

“Alright maybe I don't know exactly what they're thinking but I assume they are worried. 45 years of our intense bickering, and my people want some rest. I can only expect yours does as well.” 

“My people are not scared nor weak, America, they are doing just fine.” Ivan lied casually, his people were worried just like everyone else. America didn't need to know that.

“Argh, I swear it's like i'm talking to a brick wall right now! I get you don't want to look weak, that's cool whatever, but relay your pros and cons for a second and think again!” America exclaimed frustrated. His hand going through his shining blonde locks at the same time. He seemed to do that whenever he got stressed. England did the same thing, only more often; it's why the english mans hair could get so unruly.

Ivan for once took some of America's advice, only to shut him up. The pros he first included were peace, trade, and prosperity. Obvious and easy choices. The cons were... living with America.. He still wished to say no, but America was right for once. The positives outweighed the negatives. 

It was simply Ivan's pride and selfishness holding his country back… Ivan felt like somewhat of a dunce. Although America had overcome his selfishness for his country much quicker than Russia. That was the “hero” thing to do, Ivan thought.

“Well?” America asked impatiently while leaning against the wall, arms crossed again. Ivan took his time, thinking more about it. But really already knew what side he would have to choose.

“... Da. Fine, I will have to accept your offer,” Ivan said almost regretting it the instant it came out of his mouth. 

“My god, Ivan think about it. Doesn't your old man brain ever think!”

“I said yes America,” Ivan explained with no fluctuation in his voice. He was pretty sure America had selective hearing and was not surprised by the rude comment. It happened on more than one occasion before.

“...oh, my bad. Okay super,” Alfred said quickly opening the door, holding it open for Ivan again as he walked through it. He dreaded more and more what he was agreeing too.

“I have changed my mind, Mr. Yeltsin. I will agree with this interaction method of yours Mr. Bush,” Ivan said clearly, strolling over to Yeltsin, who was sighing with relief and the news. 

“That's great Mr. Braginsky! We thought the plan would be more comfortable if you two took turns staying in each other's homes, i'm sure you two can work out a schedule. But the advancement will begin the first of next month.” Mr. Bush said excitedly. 

“I think we should go to my place first, it's too cold this time of year for me to stay in Russia!” America quickly yelled. He obviously thought this through. Ivan didn't want to agree with the american, but there was also the matter of Ivan's house being a wreck and he didn't really want to stay in it any longer either.

“Yeah I guess we can have it your way this time. But it will not happen again.” Ivan didn't want to seem like a pushover. He could hear America thank the lord after Ivan's comment quietly to himself. 

“President Bush and I will have to sign a few papers, but you are free to go,” Yeltsin told Ivan. Getting out papers and a pen for both Bush and him to sign, setting them down on the small mahogany table between the chairs.

Ivan turned and walked out the grand double doors. Not bothering to wait for America to talk more. He had no desire to speak to anybody in that room anymore. Instead favored leaving, walking through his own house of government to the exit, back to his lonesome cave. To think of the past once again, but now, as well as the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters 2 and 3 are already typed up, I just have to go over them and fix em up. So chapter 2 will be out tonight or tomorrow night. Hopefully... that's the plan.


	2. Inhospitable behavior

It had already been a month since he last saw America and his President. The month was spent mostly in the same state as the year before except maybe a little less alcohol and a little more sleep. Ivan was trying to stop getting drunk, he didn't need to show up at his new friends home as an alcoholic. 

Ivan considered himself a gentleman, and gentlemen didn't get drunk. Ivan spent a lot of the last month thinking instead, a lot of thinking... He ended up decided that he would give America a chance at friendship or peaceful coexisting as Mr. Bush put it. The thought still made him shiver with dread, but it had to be done. He agreed to this and wouldn't back down, he also decided he would give his maximum effort. 

For my people, Ivan thought. That has been Ivan's new mantra for the past month, and would probably be in use for the unforeseeable future. But to be honest that was half true, Ivan was still human and he was looking forward to seeing another person on a daily basis. 

But he would never choose America willingly to be his new friend. On the other hand there was really no one left, and those left would never voluntarily want to be a companion to Russia, the only invitation he has ever really received was from America. Ivan would make do. Even with the worse case scenario.

That morning Ivan arrived at the airport in Moscow at around 5:30am for his flight that was scheduled to take off in another hour and a half. He was able to make it on the plane and to his seat with 10 minutes to spare. 

It took a little longer than he expected due to the security guards trying to confiscate his metal pipe and his small bottle of vodka, that currently attached to his body underneath his overcoat, when he walked through the metal detectors. It took a bit of time to convince the guards to let him keep it, only after he explained to them who exactly they were speaking to and proving it to them, but after that there was no trouble at all.

There was no way he was leaving his pipe at home, he needed the weapon in case America started acting up. He sat in a blue window seat towards the front of the plane with his small carry on bag above him. He took a glance out the window to see many other planes parked or also getting ready to take off. It was a clear morning in Russia, the sun just started to come up lighting up the sky in red and orange, clouds resembled like little flames from the sun shining on them. Soon after Ivan sat a young woman with long blonde hair and green eyes sat next to him and her child sat in the last seat on the end.

She was dressed formally, most likely a business woman. She looked irked by her sons constant fidgeting and questioning. The child was definitely in his “why?” stage, which she still hasn't gotten used to. Ivan saw that she took a quick glance to take in who was next to her and instantly tensed. He didn't even say anything to her yet but she was already scared, although it wouldn't have been the first time this happened. Even though Ivan liked people and always tried to be friendly, people didn't like Ivan. 

He figured he was just too intimidating, but that wasn't his fault and has come to accept this long ago. But he will never enjoy it. He liked plane rides, nobody could run away from him then. The young mother got the dark haired toddler's crayons and coloring book and set them up on the desk for him to color, while she opened her small suitcase and started to do paperwork on her own table. Ivan sighed and looked back out the window, it was going to be a long flight.

The flight was longer than expected, originally it was scheduled to land at around 8:15 in the morning. Instead Ivan didn't land in Washington D.C until 12:30pm. There was a problem with the plane and they had to take a 4 hour stop in Iceland until they fixed it. Ivan, of course, didn't get any sleep during the flight. The only good news was that they didn't lose his baggage, which was a relief. It happened to him once a few years back and it wasn't a pleasant experience for him or the airport staff. Ivan walked out of the crowded airport, squinting his eyes in the sudden sun, and looked around at the country he hasn't been to in a long time.

About a week after the meeting, Ivan was in his office getting caught up on paperwork. He was going through a pile of recent documents when he came across a letter. The letter had Americas address on it and an explanation from him as to why he didn't send him an email instead.

It was a comment that stated how America wasn't sure he could send an email, because Ivan may not be as up to date technology wise. But instead of taking note of the address in the top left of the envelope, the first thing he noticed about the letter was the handwriting. It was on crisp white lined paper, but the old look of America's handwriting seemed out of place on the parchment. It was a neat, but yet a very loopy cursive written in dark pen. 

Ivan could have guessed the boys handwriting was chicken scratch and overall crappy, like his drawings. No it was elegant and Ivan had to admire it for a minute before starting to plan his flight. Although he couldn't help but wonder how America got his address, he would have never given it to him willingly in the last 80 years. Actually he made sure America didn't know, Ivan was wary of spy's for a little while. Ivan figured it must have been someone else who told him.

Ivan's large grey suitcase rolled along as he started towards where he would reside for the next season. He ended up walking after he gave up on waiting for someone, like his host, to pick him up or offer transportation. Luckily he was smart to pick up a map in the airport before leaving. It took him a few minutes to find the road he was looking for, it was off of the city a bit but it wasn't too far, plus a walk to stretch his legs would be a nice. 

Washington D.C was alive and boisterous, very much similar to the person it belonged to, people were walking quickly to their own destinations. Important men and women, children swinging between parents maybe on their way to lunch, there were also a decent amount of tourists, mostly patriotic americans it seemed. This came as no surprise, the capital of a country is expected to get plenty of tourists. 

The same thing happened at his own home except on a larger scale, people come from all over the world to see his beautiful cathedral. Not just his citizens unlike Americas. The streets had cars of various sizes stuck together bumper to bumper, everyone in this country seemed to have their own car, even in a major city where you can walk everywhere. Americans are so lazy.

The day was fairly cold, there was some melted snow on the ground, creating a type of slush on the edge of the road. It looked like spring was well underway, much earlier than back at Ivan’s home. In Russia spring would not come for a very long time and when it did it was a very short stay. 

The sky was a bright blue in Washington D.C, it had only a few scattered clouds. Ivan was almost tempted to take off his jacket but he didn't feel like carrying it around, so instead he unbuttoned it to reveal the simple clothes underneath. If one looked closely they could most likely see a glint of the pipe strapped to the inside of his jacket. 

Their was a gentle breeze too, Ivan was almost happy he came to his enemy country first, the winter was much more tame here. Ivan swung the bag that was in his other hand, the one not holding the suitcase, a little more then he needed to, happy with the weather even during the middle of winter.

Ivan hummed a little as he finally turned on the road he needed to go on, he was almost there now. He scanned the old houses on the road searching for the house number 4568. The longer he walked the older the houses seemed to become, towards the end of the street he spotted the number he was looking for. 

Americas house was decent sized two story home. It was in a colonial style made of brick that was no doubt an old abode, yet somehow it still looked modern with how well it was taken care of. There was a pillar for the overhang above the front door where an American flag was hanging diagonal, swaying in the wind.

The lawn was well taken care of, it had no spots of dead grass and there was leveled trimmed bushes in front of the many windows. Ivan turned from the sidewalk and pushed the small white picket gate. The fence went around the whole house, except of course the driveway that lead to a garage. 

There was no vehicle in driveway. Ivan really hoped America was home, he didn't want to wait outside for him. Ivan walked to the front door letting the gate slam behind him and went up the steps to the door. The wooden door had a diamond design glass window on it and the porch light was still bright.

Ivan ringed the doorbell hearing the simple jingle echo through the house. Silence. Ivan ringed again this time twice in a row. Still silence… He rang once more and knocked just for good measure... All this travelling for his host to not even be home, this was incredibly crude. America must have zero hospitality, he figured England would teach him some but apparently Ivan was incorrect. 

Ivan huffed and looked around unsure of what to do. He could wait on the porch steps for America to return, but the image of Ivan sitting their waiting made him inwardly cringe at himself. He could just break into the house… Ivan thought this idea made the most sense. Plus America deserved it since he forgot about him. He pulled out his pipe and aimed it at the front door windows charming design.

The window broke easily with several glass shards falling to the ground. Ivan hummed with a smile on his face and put his hand through the new hole and felt around blindly for the lock. Once he felt the knob he turned it hearing a loud click in the wood. The door with a loud creak opening up to the house. It was dark except for a light from the kitchen. Ivan grabbed his bags closing the door behind him and went to investigate. 

The kitchen was nice, and like he expected very modern. The modern looking kitchen's stove light was on. America sure likes to waste electricity, Ivan thought while switching it off. Ivan left his suitcase in the kitchen as he wandered around. 

Ivan was curious as to where his greatest enemy resided. The furniture had obviously been in use for ages; Ivan concluded from all the wear and tear in the fabric. The floor was a nice white carpet, Ivan almost felt bad for walking in with his shoes but America deserved that too. 

There was a large TV set up in a corner, next to it was many VHS movies stacked on top of the other. A fireplace was their but it looked like it hadn't been used, unless America did spring cleaning and got rid of all the ash. Ivan highly doubted that. Ivan went through an arch and met a long hallway with 3 doors. 

The walls held picture frames of places and people, places he heard about and some fellow countries Ivan was acquainted with. He opened the first door closest and found a half bathroom, the one next to it was a simple linen closet that had towels and a vacuum stored in it.

The door at the very end opened to an office, there was paperwork everywhere. Piles of paper on the desk and on the floor. How did America work in such conditions? Bookcases lined the walls with a decent collection of literature on them. Not nearly as much as Russia, but it was a good start. 

There was also a large bulky computer on the desk. Ivan left and closed the oak door behind him, turned and headed up the carpeted stairs. There was another large hallway at the top with 4 doors. To the left was a guest bedroom. It looked freshly clean, it was nice to think America didn't totally forgot he was coming. 

Their was a queen size bed in the center, a closet in the corner, a dresser, a desk with a small bookcase connected to it that came with a simple chair under it. Another table held a pot of fresh sunflowers by the bed along with a clock. The bright flowers shimmered in the natural sunlight coming from the windows. 

Two large windows gave Ivan a view of the front yard, brightening the room with afternoon sunlight. It was a simple room, yet at the same time very inviting. Ivan could stay in here just fine. He walked out of the room and went to the door closest. 

There he came across a full bathroom, and across from that a locked door. Ivan was curious, and was tempted to break the handle with his pipe, but he would give the american some privacy. It was most likely locked for a reason, and no matter how rude the host, Ivan refused to be a rude guest. Ivan went to the door farthest and opened it slowly, the creaking loud in his ears. He assessed the large room, but curtains were drawn making it hard to see inside.

He could make out a large dresser, two doors, and a bed. Then Ivan could see a lump in the bed. Ivan’s eyes widened at the realization the lump was a being, the being could only be his host America. Wait. Ivan swiftly moved his wrist to read the time. 1:39pm! Ivan’s eyes widened and the only thing that he could think of was how amazed he was. How can someone be that lazy to sleep the day away like that. What made him so tired? Ivan retreated and closed the door softly behind him. 

So America was home, but asleep. Ivan had the marvelous idea to prank the american while he was sleeping, a harmless prank of course.. He reconsidered though, Ivan was to tired to work out the kinks for a trick. He would usually be all for it but all he wanted to do was eat, take a shower, and go to sleep, in that order. He hadn't eaten since dinner on the plane; the food wasn't very tasteful so Ivan didn't eat much of it. So food first. Trick later, he had plenty of time.

Ivan strolled down the stairs and went back into the kitchen only to find a strange creature going through his belongings. Ivan jumped back a little in surprise and stopped before entering the kitchen. It was a grey figure about 3 ft tall, he was bald too. Ivan don't know America had a child, and not such a weird looking one at that. Wait is wasn't a child it was that thing, it was on the tip of his tongue… 

“Ah Tony,” Ivan exclaimed remembering. The alien didn't even turn around , it ignored him, it favored digging through his suitcase. 

Ivan was hoping the creature would get bored and leave but it stayed seated on the ground looking at clothes, the other pair of shoes he brought, and the picture of his sisters in a frame. That's was enough Ivan decided walking up and closing his bag quickly lifting it up off the ground and retreated from the kitchen quicker than he could blink. 

To be honest the alien scarred Ivan, it was just so unnatural. He wished America would have warned him about his other housemate but it was to late now. Ivan took his suitcase and bag back up the stairs and laid it on the plush guest bed. The problem was still there though, his stomach groaned with need. 

Ivan sighed and thought. He could just rearrange his schedule to shower, eat, then sleep. That was less appealing though, he was hungry now. There was no way a small alien would get in his way either. Ivan sat up retrieved his pipe from inside his jacket again and bravely ran to the kitchen with a sudden bout determination.

He entered with a battle stance ready to impale anything that came at him. But the kitchen was empty again, Ivan carefully walked across the kitchen to the dining room, even looking under the table. Nothing. Ivan slumped with relief and went straight for the fridge for something to make. 

The white fridge, that had many magnets and papers cluttered attached to it, opened to reveal a large amount of food. He spotted a lot of junk food but was surprised to see a decent amount of ingredients Ivan could work with to make himself lunch. He expected junk food, or only microwave ready meals. 

He didn't feel up to actually cook though, instead he settled on making a simple sandwich. He retrieved the deli meat, tomato, lettuce, and mayonnaise from the fridge then opened a bread box to retrieve 2 slices of rye bread, Ivan's favorite. He hummed a tune to himself while making the sandwich using a napkin as a plate. 

He figured he would have a drink as well, he had his small canteen of vodka in his jacket, but he wasn't really in the mood for that. Instead he searched the the cupboards eventually finding the cups. He took out a simple plastic cup and filled it with water at the sink. Grabbing his sandwich in his other hand he moved to sit at the small breakfast table in the corner and began eating. At the same time he looked outside and enjoyed the view of the wood patio on the side of America's house while eating. He spotted a grill, a comfortable patio swing, and a table with an umbrella and chairs. All looked well worn from use.

Ivan was interrupted from his peaceful lunch with the sound of footsteps walking into the kitchen. The form was of a bundled human was covered from shoulder to foot in a red comforter that was on a bed earlier. He only knew it was America, besides obvious reasons, because he could see messy hair sticking up from behind as the nation was looking in the pantry. Of course the first thing he does is eat, Ivan figured internally. Instead of making his presence known he watched his new roommate move about.

The nation put a box of Frosted Flakes on the table while fetching a bowl from a cupboard, then the milk from the fridge. America looked haggard with his massive bedhead and bags under his sunken eyes. It also it seemed America was wearing nothing but his boxers under the blanket, he really must not have realized Ivan was there. 

The blanket fell down to the edge of his shoulders as he used both hands to make his brunch yawning at the same time. Ivan marveled at the tan skin, and how it worked beautifully with America's other features. Ivan coughed a little to get America's attention.

America, at that moment had been pouring milk, jumped causing him to drop the milk to the ground and look around widely. He wasn't wearing his glasses and Ivan wondered if he could actually even see Ivan at all. America must have spotted something because he squinted in his direction and spoke.

“... Ivan?” 

“Da, good afternoon America,” Ivan said watching the milk pool on the ground. “You might want to pick that up.” 

“Huh… Oh shit!” America scrambled to pick up the half gallon of milk on the table, the other half having spilt on the floor.

“Great! Ugh You didn't have to scare me you know, a simple hello would have sufficed!” America stated gripping his blanket higher so it wouldn't get wet. 

“It was not my intention, America, you just frighten easily,” Ivan laughed watching the younger nation carefully move around the puddle. And stumbled over to sit across from him at the table. Closing his eyes and and putting his face in awaiting hands with a sigh sighing. 

“Dear god, it's too early for this,” America huffed out not even looking up. The blanket fell off one shoulder and America shivered slightly, quickly moving it back around him and looking up at Ivan. Who giggled at the Americans antics. 

“Actually it's almost 2:00 in the afternoon,” Ivan stated before taking another bit of his sandwich. 

“What?!” America turned and squinted at the stove time, he looked away quickly though since he couldn't see the bright green numbers.

“Gee, i'm sorry man. I could have sworn I set my alarm... I must have forgot.”

“I expected more from my host, but I guess it's too late now,” Ivan said while putting on a fake hurtful expression.

“Oh come on don't be like that! I was up super late last night doing a hell of a lot of paperwork.”

“That does not excuse you not answering the door, I rang the doorbell several times,” Ivan questioned.

“Oh my god, that was you?!” Alfred explained face palming himself. 

"Shit! I remember hearing a doorbell but I thought it was a package or some salesman. I'm sorry, I was so tired I wasn't even thinking straight."

“Ah okay, but I expect this incident to be made up for,” Ivan said finishing his sandwich getting up and throwing the napkin away. Then walked back to the counter to put the ingredients he left out, in case he wanted a second sandwich, away in the fridge. He made sure to steer clear of the milk. 

“Yeah, yeah. By the way aren't you cold, actually nevermind, but still I know I have the heat on but it's freezing down here.” Alfred said huddling in his blanket putting it over his bed head. 

“Hmmmm, well I broke your front door window earlier, that might be the cause,” Ivan said returning the loaf of bread into the box. 

“You did what?!” America yelled getting up from the chair and swiftly running back to the living room, leaving his blanket behind giving Ivan the perfect view of America’s boxers which had little circles on them with red, white, and blue with a star in the middle. They symbol looked familiar but Ivan couldn't exactly name it. There was, of course, a hole where the glass was in the door. America stood there gawking at it.

“Dude, why would you do that!?”

“I obviously wanted to enter, you shouldn't ask stupid questions,” Ivan answered watching America from the kitchen entryway, leaning on it with one shoulder. 

“No I got that I mean, you could have waited for me! Awesome, well now I know why it's so freakin cold in here,” America sarcastically voiced. Walking up, dangerously close to the shards, to inspect the opening.

“Its very nice out, I believe you do not need the heat. Although I would watch your feet, i'm sure you don't want to clean up blood as well.” Ivan pointed out.

“For you not for me, and what do you mean “clean up as well?” You're the one who made this mess,” Alfred huffed out looking at Ivan expectantly. 

“You do not expect me to clean it up, it is your fault after all.”

“Wha- my fault?! You're the one who busted into my house like a- ugh!.. Okay. Okay, fine whatever. Don't you have someplace to go, like to sleep. I know you're tired. I'm sure you already found your room too,” America huffed putting his hands on his hips looking at the mess, thinking of a solution.

“Yes I am quite tired. No thanks to you, but don't worry I can take care of myself. Also I suggest you put on some clothes, we don't need you catching a cold.” Ivan started giggling as America looked down almost realizing he was only wearing his undergarments. 

His faced flushed red, America quickly turned away from Ivan, looking at nothing. When he was done watching America act like a child, as usual, he walked up the stairs to take his shower and finally get some sleep. As he went up the stairs he could faintly hear America mimicking him with annoyance, accent and all.

Ivan gathered some comfortable clothes for himself and went into the bathroom to take a well deserved hot shower. Before reaching the bathroom he passed the American in the hallway who was covered again, he looked like he was going to start getting ready for the day.

Ivan gave him a polite smile while passing him, the american gave a frustrated look at him and walked into his own room. He was most likely still angry with how he woke up, first Ivan was there, he spilled half a gallon of milk, his front door window was broken, and he embarrassed himself.

Ivan didn't care though, none of that was his problem, to be honest the american deserved all of it for being an awful host. Ivan started the shower in the bathroom, at first he wasn't sure what knob did what. But he was too embarrassed to ask for help, he eventually found it out though.

Steam started to fill the room as he undressed, carefully undoing his scarf and hung it on a rack and then the bandages too, which he would put back on later. Once unclothed all the way he got a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He wasn't as skinny as he was two months ago. When all he consumed for sustenance was alcohol, he started eating more in the last month and now he was pretty much back to his normal physique. 

He accidentally caught a glimpse of the scars around his neck and he quickly turned and entered the hot shower. His scars were a sensitive topic, and he hated them. Hated the look of them, the feel of them, and what they reminded him of. Of a time when he was first put under rule, to do whatever he was told and yet still wasn't good enough. Ivan hated his scars, but they were a disgusting piece of him that he had to dealt with and will forever.

Ivan saw under the spray that there was already plenty of soap and a washcloth all located on a rack. America really thought of everything. From food, room, and even toiletries. Ivan was impressed. He hummed a song while cleaning quickly before getting out of his shower and changing into simpler clothes he would be sleeping in. He wouldn't put on pajamas just yet, in case he needed to get up. After Ivan put back on his bandages he left the bathroom. 

The cold air of the house felt nice after being in the sauna of a bathroom. He could hear the television downstairs but that was it. America was being courteous, keeping silent for Ivan. At least that's what he hoped, friends did that for each other. He walked to his room, locking the door behind him out of pure habit. Ivan instantly left his dirty clothes for later, dropping them by his still packed suitcase, and fell into the soft bed, he didn't bother closing the blinds on the window, he actually kind of liked it.

The bright light and green leaves outside was a nice change of view. Also the way the sunlight fell onto the white sheets made that area of the bed warmer than the others, it was very pleasant. Ivan folded his scarf carefully and put it on the nightstand with the sunflowers on it. The clock read 2:23pm. The room was so much more comfortable than his own to be honest, America knew exactly how to set it up. He would have to thank him later. Ivan got under the covers feeling the warm spots even under the sheet and sighed with relief. It was silent except for the sound of the still going T.V and every now and then he could hear America moving around downstairs, which oddly enough didn't bother him as much as he thought it would. America wasn't as nearly annoying as he thought he would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 is on its way~


	3. Forget or Forgive?

Ivan awoke calmly, with no nightmares or problems, he had a peaceful sleep and awoke on his accord for once. It was dark outside, he could see a few stars in the distance. He must have slept longer than he thought he would. Ivan turned his neck to see the green numbers read 8:43pm. Much later than he thought. Ivan was thinking he would wake up around six in time to make dinner, but no, his brain decided it needed an extra two hours. Oh well, it's not like that's a bad thing; it's rare for Ivan to get this much rest. 

Ivan got up from bed feeling well rested, the only bad thing about that is he wasn't going to go to bed till late now. He stretched before getting on his feet grabbing his scarf, wrapping it around his neck lazily, while going to the door and unlocking it. 

The bright hallway made his eyes hurt but they quickly adjusted and he was walking down the stairs easily. He heard the T.V give a loud roar, literally, and as he entered the living room he saw America sitting on the edge of the couch engrossed on the television. Ivan took a look at the screen and saw... dinosaurs? 

A Tyrannosaurus Rex, he was pretty sure that's what that one was, just came out into a clearing attacking a herd of smaller dinosaurs but only managing to get one. Tearing it apart instantly, the graphics were very life-like; Ivan had to give credit to american movies.

“What are you watching?” Ivan asked while standing awkwardly away from the stairs to get a better view of the screen.

“Huh? Oh, i'm watching Jurassic Park. It just recently came out so I went up to the family video and rented it,” America answered not looking away from the screen. Ivan was about to leave after a second of silence so he could eat something in the kitchen but America continued.

“It's about an island that people turned into a amusement park with attractions for genetically made dinosaurs. Then, you know, things got out of hand, the Dinosaurs got loose. All that jazz,” America nonchalantly explained.

“Hmm,” Ivan was watching the movie now, but he remembered he had a mission and started for the kitchen trying to think of what he should make on the way. He realized the room was warmer and he looked at the front door while passing it to see it repaired. Well somewhat repaired. 

There was several layers of duct tape instead of the glass window now, the glass shards around it were gone. In the kitchen the milk was gone too, it looked just as Ivan walked in to it earlier. Ivan looked through the pantry and fridge surveying everything he had to work with. Which was a lot. Ivan decided that stroganoff would be easiest and tasteful tonight. 

“Hey Ivan! I was thinking about ordering pizza; so you don't have to make dinner!” America yelled from in the living room over more screeching. Ivan walked back into the living room, not wanting to yell.

“Nyet. I do not want italian, I want russian food. That and your American pizza is so bland,” Ivan said with a smirk. Here it comes. 

“My pizza is not bland! It's the best pizza.” America turned from the T.V. 

“I must disagree with you America, your pizza all taste the same no matter the toppings. Too much cheese and sauce, it's disgusting.” America paused the movie while Ivan was talking.

“It's the perfect amount of cheese and sauce, you just don't have any taste! All the boring food you eat has made you lame, yup it's the only explanation,” America stated, looking smug at Russia who was still in the kitchen entryway.

“I don't believe that's how that works America, but I refuse to eat your sorry excuse for italian food. I will be making stroganoff, your welcome to have some real food if you wish,” Ivan said with a smile and turned back into the kitchen before America could answer. He still did though.

“You probably will poison it; so i'm still ordering pizza!” America yelled before the living room filled with unfamiliar voices and occasional screeches again. 

Ivan started gathering all the supplies he needed while scrounging in the kitchen for a pan to cook in. Eventually finding the pans near the sink, farthest away from the stove. Ivan tsked realizing he would have to rearrange the objects in the cupboard, the placement of everything just made no sense. The modern kitchen had an electric stove, to Ivan's disappointment, but he had no choice but to use it. 

About a half an hour later the doorbell rang. Ivan figured it was America's pizza delivery and didn't bother going to answer the door. He was just about to finish his dinner, all he had to do was strain the noodles of water. Earlier he couldn't find the strainer and had to call the american in to find it for him.

At first America didn't even know where it was, but they eventually found it in the pantry. Dear god did Ivan needed to organize this kitchen. America of course said he had a system and not to switch it up, Ivan was going to do it anyway. He made enough food for tonight and tomorrow for lunch if he wanted some. Ivan grabbed a plate and sat at the breakfast table again. 

He wasn't going to sit at the large dining table by himself, no the smaller one was just fine. He ate in peace until he heard the movie abruptly stop, and in came America casually throwing the pizza box on the counter before grabbing a paper plate from the pantry. 

Throwing 2 slices of pepperoni pizza on it, inside the box there was already another two pieces missing. Ivan truly thought the american was going to just get a plate and go back to his movie, but instead the plate wasn't on a couch but across from him on the table.

America sitting in the other seat with a bottle of coke in hand he grabbed from the fridge. What is he planning? During the glory days, when the USSR was still together, his friends would never willingly sit with him. He had to force to them eat dinner with him at the dining table that could fit 15+ nations. 

Ivan with no doubt knew they all feared him, but he liked to pretend they didn't. But here was America casually sitting with him after not even a day of him living here, but America was stupid and didn't fear him. It was a nice thought, but all Ivan could think about is what the American real motives were. 

“What are you staring at? Oh, you jealous of my pizza? Haha, well it's too late now, you had your chance,” America exclaimed while chomping down on the pizza; sauce to spilling onto his plate. Ivan gagged a little at that, the food looked absolutely drenched in grease, and America was eating it like an animal who hasn't eaten in days. 

“America, please, stop eating like a starving beast,” Ivan said taking a bite of his own food looking down so he wouldn't have to see the nation horf down his meal. 

“Hey! Why do you do that?!”

“Do what?” Ivan asked looking up scarred of what he would see. Thankfully America wasn't taking another bite yet. 

“Call me America, I mean yeah that's my name, but I call you Ivan. America is so...formal.” America said nervously, it seemed he was really working to ease tensions for his citizens. 

“You want me to call you by your human name then?” Ivan asked, he was enjoying how flustered america was becoming. 

“Y-yup! You remember what it is right?”

“Hmmmm, no I don't. Can you please refresh my memory?” Ivan took another bite, he knew it started with an A. But what was it. How could he forget his enemy of 40 years actual name?! Ivan felt slightly embarrassed, especially since America knew his. 

“Alfred F. Jones! You really didn't remember, how could you forget a name like mine!” America yelled, but took another bite of his pizza. He was about to finish the first piece and already had the second slice in his other hand. 

“Ah, that's what it is. I knew it started with an A. Apologies, i'll remember it next time,” Ivan answered, for once apologetic. 

"You better!” America huffed starting on his second slice and taking a drink of coke. 

What followed their talk was the dreadful awkward silence. Ivan still wasn't making eye contact, he looked outside the window at nothing instead. After a few minutes the silence was becoming suffocating. Ivan quickly took out his flask he had in his pocket taking a swig of relaxing vodka. He needed to make conversation, something Ivan was never any good at. Talking was America’s specialty.

“Oh, I forgot to ask. How do you like your room?” America asked. Thank god, he pulled through.

“Its surprisingly very nice Ame- Alfred.” He almost forgot to use his name, but when he did it came out heavily accented, it was something Ivan was going to have to work on. Especially since Alfred pronounced his name correctly, contrary to the english spelling of it.

“Your welcome. I cleaned up the house the day before you came, except for my office though. Ugh, that thing would be hell to clean out.”

“When I arrived I took the liberty of looking around, and your correct the office is quite a mess. How you manage to work in there baffles me. You need to be more organized,” Ivan stated simply finishing his plate but didn't excuse himself yet. He pushed the plate in front of him slightly so he could rest his arms there while he listened to Alfred speak. 

“It's not like everything disorganized, just my office is crazy messy. Isn't everyone's?” Alfred stated.

“Not mine, and it's not just your office. For example the placement of your appliances is very unorganized and it lacks sense.”

“We talked about this earlier! I have a system, it only works for me,” America asserted yet again.

“Well whether it works for you or not I don't care, i'm going to organize it at some point soon,” Ivan proclaimed with his gentle smile.

“Dude, no then I won’t know where everything is!”

“I'm sure you could learn.”

“Why don't you learn!” Alfred objected, pointing at Ivan firmly. 

“Because Alfred, your kitchen ware is not coordinating with your appliances. Who put their cups on the bottom cupboard by the stove?” Ivan explained, getting a little frustrated with America but Ivan valued patience.

“Normal people who don't coordinate where their plates go! It doesn't really matter if you ask me.”

“See that's where you're wrong, its very common. For example I would put the plates by the- you know what nevermind. You will not understand. You shall see when i'm done,” Ivan grumbled. Wanting to drop the subject, this could get negative very fast.

“Fine, whatever. You don't listen to me anyway.” After that Ivan figured their conversation was over with Alfred’s last comment and started collecting his plate and silverware. He could hear America grumbling but ignored him. Choosing to walk over to the sink and start cleaning up his mess. Collecting the dirty pans and putting the leftovers in tupperware that would go in the fridge. 

“I have one request, Alfred, could you control your pet.” Ivan interjected, arms covered in warm water and suds, his sleeves rolled up so they wouldn't get wet. 

“Pet? What pet?” Alfred questioned in between mouthfuls. 

“Your...alien friend?”

“OH, Tony! He isn't a pet, I don't have much control over him. What happened? Did he come down to greet you or something?” 

“Something like that, I left my luggage in the kitchen as I traversed your home and when I returned he was there looking through my belongings.” Ivan chose his words carefully, making sure to keep out the part of him retreating to his room out of fright. 

“Hahaha, oh my god. Tony’s great! Don't worry man, I doubt he will bother you again. I barely see him; since he lives in the attic. Only once in a blue moon will he come out.” Alfred notified. 

It eased Ivan’s thoughts a little bit. Ivan didn't continue the conversation after that. This time the silence wasn't suffocating, it was calm, with the sound of water and scrubbing helped to ignore the loud chewing coming from behind him. America finished half of his pizza pie, throwing the rest of the box in the fridge wherever there was space. 

If he didn't put it in a bag or something it would turn bad, Ivan wasn't going to change it though. If Alfred wanted to eat bad pizza tomorrow he could. America left the kitchen, basically running, to return to his movie. 

Ivan thought the film was over, it had explained why Alfred chose to sit with Ivan for dinner. But it turned out Alfred stopped his movie, near the end too, to join Ivan. Ivan felt a warmth overcome him, he was happy. He had to remember that it was just business, they had a job and America was just doing it. Ivan was sure America didn't really care. Right?

It had been a long time since he was actually this content, even when his house was filled with former friends the happiness was fleeting. This arrangement however was proceeding much quicker than expected, Alfred must be giving it his all. 

They have always been enemies, always being passive aggressive towards one another. Ivan would say he almost hated America during the Cold War. Which was only 2 years ago, and he was sure America had hated him too. Or his young age must allow him to forget or forgive easier, Ivan concluded. That made sense. It was that or America was sucking up his feelings, Ivan doubted that. America didn't have the capacity to ignore his emotions either. 

Ivan dried the pans and proceeded to put them away in their poorly placed positions. After wiping down the table with a dark blue wash cloth that was in the sink he turned off the light in the kitchen as he entered the living room. 

While doing the dishes Alfred must have left the living room, the movie was off and the blonde was nowhere to be seen. A lamp by the couch was on, most likely for Ivan. He considered watching the news, but he wasn't interested in American news, so he decided not to. 

He figured Alfred was done with this room and turned the lamp off, climbing up the carpeted steps and into the hallway where his room was. There was no light under the master bedroom door. Either America went to sleep or was in his office, most likely the latter. Last Ivan checked it was only half past 10. Not nearly early enough for sleeping, maybe for Ivan on normal nights, not Alfred. 

Especially since he got up very late. Ivan retreated to his dark bedroom, closing the door behind him and locking. Ivan turned on the light switch next to the door. The first thing he saw was his dirty clothes laying on the ground, that and his bags weren't even unpacked. 

Ivan was not pleased at the sight, it made him look like he was a slob. Ivan swiftly set to the task of putting his clothes in the empty dresser, and his nice clothes in the closet. Hangers were already provided thankfully, he didn't think to pack any. In the closet was a nice wicker laundry hamper, it didn't really match the room but it would have to do. 

Ivan went and grabbed his dirty clothes throwing them in the basket after he checked it was empty. He also put away his books and the little paperwork he had on the desk, the few books he planned on reading going on the bookshelf. 

With his clothes, dirty and clean, put where they belonged and his suitcase and bag in closet on a shelf above the clothes. Ivan finished cleaning the mess he made of the room and took a look around. Just as he found it but with more character. Ivan wished this was his real room in back in Russia, this simple small room just felt made for Ivan. All the natural light, the warm colors, the bookcase and desk, the plush bed. 

The bed was absolutely perfect, it was plush, seeming to envelop him when he laid down. Unlike his own bed that was as hard as a rock which caused him to have back pain some mornings. What tied it all together were the sunflowers by the digital clock by his bed. 

Even at night they were still bright with life, facing Ivan, welcoming him to his new lifestyle. He was surprised Alfred bought him some, especially alive ones that gave off a lovely smell. How America knew he liked them confused him most, but he decided to leave it to coincidence. 

Ivan went and changed into his pajamas, throwing his old clothes in the handy hamper, before grabbing the novel he has been reading as of lately and laying down in the bed. He was halfway under the covers with his knees bent, the pillows were moved up to cushion him against the headboard. 

Ivan eventually was snapped out of his story to the sound of shuffling out in the hallway and the light turning on. America must be going to bed, Ivan looked and saw the time was almost midnight. As quickly as the light was turned on it was off followed by the sound of a quiet click, of a door closing. Ivan figured he should go to sleep too.

He was going to actually about an hour ago but his book sucked him in and it became difficult to stop. He got up from his warm bed and placed the book on the shelf and turning the switch by the door off. He walked blindly to the bed, his eyes adjusting to the sudden darkness.

He made it to the bed with no toe stubbing, thankfully, and got under the covers. As he laid down he noticed his room wasn't completely dark, the moon was in full view from his bed. Lighting up the bed just as the sun did earlier that afternoon, just without the warmth. 

If one was to tell Ivan two years ago that he would be sleeping in the same building with America, only a simple wall separating them, Ivan would have thought they crazy or somehow threatening him. He was very cautious during the cold war. It was different now, yes he didn't exactly trust America a whole lot, but he didn't want to strangle him all the the time either. It was almost too odd how quickly he had become comfortable around Alfred.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4 is now underway, may take a few days. But don't worry It will come.


	4. 10-gallon Hats

“America! What is this?” Ivan yelled from the kitchen. He had been in the process of sweeping the kitchen floor. As soon as he lifted the simple blue- grey rug in the kitchen under the breakfast table. 

Actually more like dinning table, for the past week Ivan had lived here, he and America always eaten at this table for dinner; thus making it the dining table. But underneath the rug was a large amount of...everything. There was pieces of old food (a lot of cereal bits), dirt, dust, and….that’s disgusting! A large cockroach. 

“What’s what?” Alfred asked walking in from where he was lounging in the living room.

“This!” Ivan stated, pointing to the mess under the rug.

“Dude, what is tha- oh... EW! KILL IT! KILL IT!” America scampered back to where he came from. Retreating to the entrance of the kitchen, only poking his head out to watch the execution. 

“Alfred. It is already dead. I was simply pointing out the mess.” Ivan laughed slightly at how frightened the nation got. A small bug scared a world power out of the room. What was the world coming to.

“Oh, well that’s a relief. Anyway what mess?” Alfred asked walking back into the room slowly, he didn’t make eye contact with Ivan though. Instead he watched the bug the whole time, almost waiting for it to move. 

“Alfred, you surely are not blind. Where i’m pointing!” Ivan exclaimed growing a little frustrated with America’s game. 

“Yeah, i’m just messing with ya man. Here i’ll handle it.” America grabbed the rug from Ivan’s hands throwing it back over the mess and out of site. “See there. All gone.”

“...Nyet. It’s still there, you just can’t see it,” Ivan huffed, picking up the carpet, shaking it out and laying it over a chair.

“Don’t you know that saying Ivan. Out of sight out of mind.”

“Yes I know it, but just because it is out of sight doesn't mean it’s gone. Is this how you define cleaning?” Ivan sighed while sweeping up the dead cockroach and old moldy food bits.

“It’s the same thing, as long as you can’t see it, it’s clean,” Alfred said, most likely confused on why Ivan was sweeping up the mess. He obviously believed it was fine where it was, how old was America again. 

“No, it's not the same thing.” Ivan swept the two piles of dirt together. “And now that I know how you clean, i'll have to clean the whole place.”

“WHAT?! Dude, I just said it's fine,”America yelled. Alfred knew where this was going and he didn't like it. “I literally just cleaned last week, right before you got here!”

“Surface cleaning does not mean all the dirt and grime is gone Alfred. Were cleaning the house and its final,” Ivan stated grabbing the black dust pan and little brush, leaning down to sweep the pile into the tray to be thrown away. 

“We?! Nu-uh i'm not cleaning. I just cleaned this whole place! You can but i'm not. Nope.” America retreated to the living room quickly, feeling the conversation was done. Oh he was very wrong, America was going to help clean whether he liked it or not. Ivan refused to live in these conditions. 

He cringed when he thought of how dirty his room must really be. He would have to check under the bed and other furniture and thoroughly cleanse it later. Ivan threw away the piles of dirt in the garbage before going back and laying the rug down, then moving the table and chairs back into place on top of it. 

One thing down, so many more to go. So far Ivan had cleaned the kitchen at least, earlier his plan was to simply rearrange the cupboards. Which he did, Ivan was very happy with the new arrangement. He noticed a lot of dirt on the kitchen tiles though and set to sweeping, which is what led to the incident and his day having a lot more work in it. He also planned on going to the grocery store, they were running low on food. 

Ivan said something to America about him going and needing to borrow his car, but Alfred said he would just take him since Ivan didn't know where to go and what good foods to buy. 

Ivan explained to Alfred that he could just make a list for him if need be, but it seemed his host was determined on going with him. The paperwork his boss sent him would have to wait till later, at this rate maybe till tomorrow.

Ivan entered the living room finding America spread out on the couch, his red shirt with the Coca-Cola brand name on it was riding up and he had potato chips on his stomach. He was staring at the television, a show called “The Simpsons” was playing. 

Ivan started watching television with Alfred fairly recently, they both enjoyed watching “X-Files,” “Cheers,” and occasionally “The Nanny.” Ivan didn't really care for the Simpsons family though, the show was so very… Immature. 

Ivan, nor Alfred, needed to waste time watching this trash; Ivan didn't feel guilty when he grabbed the remote from the floor and switched the entertainment system off. 

“Hey! I was watching that,” America yelled, after realizing his guest just turned his show off.

“Da, I know. But we have better things to do, for example finish cleaning the messes you have made.” 

There was a sudden dash from the couch to Ivan’s side by America, the chip bag falling to the ground; chips spilling everywhere. Great another mess. 

Before Alfred could grab the remote from Ivan’s hand, Ivan held the remote high above his head. It was way out of America’s reach now. 

“Stop! Give the remote back Ivan!” America demanded jumping a few times to reach the remote, it was useless. Ivan was very tall, actually the tallest of all the nations. 

“Not until we are done cleaning do you get it back,” Ivan sing-songed, laughing a little at how much of a child Alfred was acting like. 

“Not fair, I just spent a whole day cleaning!” 

“Your clean is not real clean America. Besides there is no need to whine, since their is two of us it won't take as long.” Ivan explained really wanting the shorter nation to stop climbing all over him, it was starting to become tiring. “Then you can watch all the T.V and eat all the bad food you want,” he added. After a minute more of trying to reach the remote it seemed Alfred gave up.

“...There’s no way i'm getting out of this is there?” 

“Nope.”

“Fine, i’ll “real clean,”” America said using hand quotations over the words Ivan said earlier. 

“Great, I think I will finish sweeping the floors in the dining room and hallway. I want you to use the vacuum to to do the stairs and rooms,” Ivan directed while putting the remote in his back pocket.

“I don't have a vacuum.”

“Yes you do, I saw it in your linen closet.”

“Damn it! Okay fine I will do the boring job. Anything else your majesty?” Alfred asked exasperated. 

“Yes, I want you to move stuff when you're sweeping. Like the couch or the beds for example, when you get to it, don't go around it but move the furniture out of the way to sweep under it.” Ivan stated clearly, even giving an example so Alfred would get it in his thick head. 

“Yeah, I got it. I mean is there anything else after that?” America asked crossing his arms in annoyance.

“Hmmm, well I will dust and clean the bathroom. So I want you to just tidy up a bit, when you're done vacuuming.” 

America looked around the living room about to argue that it didn't need organizing. There were two mugs of old coffee, an empty bottle of coke, and a bunch of junk mail that needed to be sorted on the coffee table. 

Not to mention the stacks of VHS cassettes by the television along with the recently spilled bag of chips. Alfred didn’t seem to agree, it did need tidying up. 

“Alright, I can handle that.” Alfred stated, walking into the hallway to retrieve the vacuum quickly, wanting to get this done and over with so he could get back to his shows. 

Ivan started back off to the kitchen to get to the dining room grabbing the green plastic broom on the way.

It took Ivan a measly 40 minutes to finish sweeping all the hardwood and tile areas in the house. He was thinking about mopping it too, but it didn't have any spots, since both nations made sure to take of their shoes before entering the house now. There was really no need for mopping.

Dusting on the other hand was taking longer than he thought it would. America had a lot of knickknacks, and picture frames on the many shelves and other surfaces in his house. 

It also looked like they haven't been dusted since they were brought home. Ivan had to keep changing the rag because one swipe on the brown wood collected so much dust that the rag had to be replaced. Thank god Ivan didn't have any allergy or sinus problems. 

Ivan couldn't help looking at the pictures in the plain frames while moving them about. There were pictures of Alfred and...his twin? What was his name? …

Anyway there were a few of those throughout the ages, a few newer pictures of England. There weren't any old ones weirdly enough. One with Toris and Alfred… When did that happen? 

There were also plenty of group pictures with all of them in it, well all of them except for Russia himself. Ivan was not in a single picture, not even in the group ones. He was pretty sure he was there for those. Huh. Well Ivan did have to consider he and Alfred did hate each other for the past 40 years, so that had to be the main reason. 

Ivan was currently in the hallway downstairs dusting the top of frames. He was extremely tempted to dust the office, knowing that it was the worse. But Alfred said not to, that it would be “to much dusting to do in one lifetime.” 

Ivan wanted to say they were immortal so it didn't matter, but he really did not care that much. Alfred finished vacuuming the upstairs and downstairs in the middle of Ivan’s dusting. Then the smaller nation started his second job. 

Occasionally Alfred would scoot pass Ivan in the hallway, needed to get to a certain room to return things to their rightful places. It seemed Alfred was working his way up putting things away downstairs, all the while making a pile that would go with him upstairs when he finished. 

Suddenly loud, yet muffled, crashing filled Ivan’s ears along with a surprised yell from the only other living person in the house. 

Ivan jumped and turned his head up, the noise came from upstairs. Ivan sighed, figuring he should probably check on his host, walking over to the stairs and placing the windex and newest rag on the ground before climbing up the, now clean, carpeted steps.

The only door open in the hallway was Alfred's room, it looked kinda odd because America’s door always seemed to be closed. Ivan walked over to the entrance to look into the bright room, the shades let the light in allowing Ivan to see the room in all its glory. 

The walls were a light blue-grey type of color. There was nice dark wood for the two dressers, one taller and thinner the other longer and thicker, and a side table by America’s bed. Ivan was sure they were bought as a set. 

All the furniture were cluttered with miscellaneous items. Everything from paperwork to snow globes could be found. The bed was in the corner adorning the red comforter, which he saw often in the mornings. Green and white polka dot sheets were under the comforter, that didn't match at all. 

There was a lamp on the side table along with a clock similar to Ivan’s. Alfred’s room also had trash bin by his bed, it was filled to the brim with water bottles and tissues.

The best word to describe Alfred’s room was, homey. Ivan felt the need to go through the mess and take a look at all the junk on all the flat surfaces, he could spend hours doing it with how much their was. It seemed that Alfred threw a lot of the stuff in there last minute, most likely during his last cleaning raid. 

Ivan finally looked to the mess that was on the ground, the room's owner trapped under the pile, at the moment moving things off his body. 

It seemed that the when the closet door opened everything fell out, right on top of the rooms owner. When Ivan said everything, he meant everything. Alfred was covered in old junk, struggling to get his bearings and sit up. 

“What’s this?” Ivan asked in the doorway trying not laugh at Alfred’s situation. 

“Well I thought it would be a good day to organize my closet, ya know, since i'm already cleaning. I sorta forgot how much stuff I put in there.” Alfred explained, laughing a little at himself. “Now that I see it, I think I have changed my mind.”

“It's all out now, you might as well go through it.”

“Nah I like all this stuff, I have nothing to get rid of here.” Alfred started going through the old stuff while sitting up, picking up an old teddy bear and an old brown cowboy hat. 

“Look! my sweet 10-gallon hat! I was wondering where this was.” He then proceeded to put the hat on, putting the bear in his lap, before going through the pile more. His smile was growing more and more with every old discovery. 

“That hat looks ridiculous.” Ivan giggled, those western hats always looked so silly to Ivan. 

“You look ridiculous,” Alfred retorted not even looking Ivan’s way, favoring going through his old belongings. Ivan figured these items were all on Alfred's dressers at one point, like a cycle of things that would go in to his room, on display, then proceed into the closet. If the items were lucky they would be picked again for reuse. He just found an old record. “Oooh, my Beatles record! Now where is that record player?”

“Alfred, it's fun watching you play with your old garbage. But i'm really hoping we can make it to the grocery store today, since you won't let me go by myself.” Ivan stated, he didn't want to wait till the last minute. 

“Oh. I forgot you wanted to do that. Okay, one second, i'm commin- OW!” Alfred yelled suddenly right when he started to get up, the hat on his head flying to the ground after the sudden movement. 

“What? What’s wrong?” Ivan asked confused, walking more into the room, towards the pile. 

“Damn it. I guess one of my old ceramic containers broke.” Alfred looked down to where he put his hand to steady his weight before he tried standing up earlier. 

“Awww. It's the old music box Francis got me forever ago!” Alfred sighed, looked at the broken pieces of porcelain, mirror glass, and machinery, disappointingly.

“Help me up would you,” Alfred asked sadly after a moment, holding his good hand out to Ivan. Which Ivan took, after only 3 seconds of hesitation. Oh how far they had come. America was at his feet, stepping over the pile carefully. All the while looking at his hand.

“Let me see,” Ivan demanded. This statement surprised Ivan himself. Usually others getting hurt didn't bother him at all, especially America in the last few decades. Sometimes he wanted to see it happen, but not anymore. But the slight pained expression on Alfred’s face, didn't look right on him. Ivan decided he didn't like it. 

“Huh? Don't worry, its fine. Just a few scratches.” Alfred stated looking at his palm carefully. Ivan ignored him, grabbing the injured hands wrist carefully and pulling it closer to his face for inspection. 

“These are not a few scratches.” The hand was covered in blood, very close to dripping on to the floor. There were 4 to 5 pieces of thick white ceramic and glass embedded in Alfred’s palm. He could barely make out the purple flower pattern on the ceramic with the bright red that covered it now. The shards were pretty deep; Ivan was a little nervous. “They may need a stitch.”

“What?! They aren't that bad! Watch, i’ll handle it,” Alfred exclaimed walking past Ivan to another open door that was the master bathroom. 

Ivan followed, watching Alfred's movements while he searched blindly for medical supplies under his sink one handed. Blood finally started falling on the white tile floor when Alfred jerked up with a small bag in hand. “Aha! Found it!”

America opened the zipper, not very smoothly, with only one hand. He dug around a bit until he came across what he was looking for. A small pair of tweezers. He positioned them in his left hand. Ivan was silent as he watched America have trouble holding the tweezers comfortably in his left hand, he was right handed. Weirdly enough Ivan felt the strong need to help him, he was just full of odd behaviors today. Now that Ivan thought about, in only the past two months Ivan has changed more then in the last 40 years. That is if he doesn't count that year of full of self loathing and hate, although that year was a big haze anyway.

“Here. Let me.” Ivan said, taking the red pair of tweezers from the others hand swiftly, carefully moving America’s hand towards Ivan. His palm was under America’s palm, steadying it. All before the other could interject. 

Ivan used the tweezers to carefully remove the jagged shards. Ivan was trying to see how deep they really went, but he was distracted. 

Ivan was distracted by the warmth radiating above his own hand. Ivan knew he was cold physically, he as told his skin felt like ice to others. Even though his body temperature was always at the normal. 

If Russia was ice then America was a heater. It was funny how opposite they were, yet somehow, if they tried, they could get along decent enough. 

“You done yet?” America asked, hand searching in the small white medical bag.

Just as Alfred asked, Ivan put the last of the shards on the bathroom’s shiny sink with the others in a little pile.

“Da, let's wash it. Then I will bandage it.” Ivan placed the tweezers down and put his hand to the sink, turning the faucet on for Alfred to spray cold water. The bloodied hand quickly becoming clean after a few mere seconds under the water. Ivan found the roll of bandage already out of the bag, waiting to be used. 

“So it doesn't need any stitches?” Alfred asked.

“I don't think so. Well 2 out of the 5 cuts are very deep, but I think they will be fine without sewing them up,” Ivan explained, uncertainty filling his voice. Ivan lived a long time, but he wasn't any doctor. When ever he was injured during his childhood, he would just ignore the wound until it went away. It’s not like nations could die of blood loss, they still felt pain like any other human though. 

“Sweet! I hate stitches,” Alfred exclaimed. He turned the faucet off, shaking the water out into the sink a few times before handing it back to Ivan, who already had the bandage roll ready to be used. “Patch me up Mr. Nurse.”

Ivan gave his most sarcastic-fake laugh, not looking up from the new task of gingerly wrapping cloth around the warm palm, he made sure it wasn't too tight, but tight enough to slow the bleeding down. 

He finished the bandage, moving away and washing his own hands in the sink, he probably should have washed his hands first, but unlike Alfred’s comment, he was no nurse either. 

“Thanks big guy. To be honest I probably would have just left it all bleeding and stuff if you weren't here,”Alfred admitted, eyes focusing on his bandaged hand carefully, almost like he was trying to memorize all the creases in the material. 

“That's unsanitary,” Ivan advised, quickly walking out of the bathroom, he just realized how crowded it was in there. How close he had been to America, who didn't even flinch in his presence. Who thanked him. “..But you're welcome.”

“I'm going to finish dusting downstairs. When you're done cleaning up the mess you made in here, then we will go to the store.” Ivan called out, not looking back as he exited the room. 

“Alrighty!” Was the answer he heard yelled back to him as Ivan went downstairs, grabbing the supplies he left behind at the the foot of the stairs.

Ivan observed the living room, it was much better then before, papers in a neat pile, old cups and bottles gone. The movies by the T.V put away, most likely in the little chest next to it.

He was pleasantly surprised to find the old cups already washed and put away when he checked the sink in the kitchen. All that was left really dirty was Alfred's office and bedroom, which he wasn't going to dare touch. The ceiling fans, those were covered in layers dust, that Ivan was about to wipe down were on his to-do list though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 5 may take a little longer to come in. I'm going to a wedding; so im not to sure how much free time i'll have in the next few days. But it will come! : D


	5. Apple Pie

The grocery store they went to was larger than expected. The “Walmart” didn't have just food though he as told, it had every other house necessity one could think of needing. 

Ivan felt this was not a good place to buy food. Who buys clothes, cleaning supplies, and their food all in the same place. But America refused to go anywhere else, he knew where all the foods were located in this store best. 

That and Ivan couldn't exactly just go find another store. He didn't know where another was, and he couldn't exactly drive there. They were walking up to the large store now. Alfred had to park in the back due to how packed it was. 

“I really don't want to purchase food here,” Ivan tried to persuade Alfred to go somewhere else one last time. But the American was relentless.

“The food here is just fine. Besides we already parked and walked the half mile to the store's entrance. It would be a waste to turn around now,” America explained while crossing the crosswalk in front of the door giving one of his famous smiles and a polite wave to the car that stopped for them. 

The heat when they entered the store blasted them. He could hear America sigh with relief while rubbing his arms up and down. It was only in the high 50s today.

“America you were cold? Its so lovely out,” Ivan teased with an amused smile. The shorter nation was even wearing his usual bomber jacket and was still shivering a little, and in such nice weather too.

“Only a little! You also have to think, I don't live in a winter wonderland like you do.” America defended grabbing a cart and striding back over to Ivan. 

“I would not call it a wonderland.” 

“Yeah probably. Anyway, do you know what you need?” America asked. They were walking to the first area. A frozen section with vegetables and fruit. Inside the store everyone was spaced out, getting whatever they needed. It wasn't as packed as he thought it would be. 

“Oh yes!” Ivan then reached in his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “I actually brought a list.”

“Arighty then. Let me see that bad boy.” The other then proceeded in snatching the list from Ivan's grasp, scanning the Cyrillic.

“Geez man! You have got a lot of stuff here. It's gonna take forever until we're done,” Alfred said sadly. Putting his head down in a defeated position. Ivan ignored his whining though. 

“I didn't know you could read my language.” Ivan exclaimed. He was actually surprised, he was sure his fellow nation could only speak english. Not bothering to learn anything else with his condescending views.

“Huh? Well yeah, i mean, I can read it easily but not speak it very well.” Alfred explained quickly, scanning the yellow paper once more. 

“Really?! Im impressed.”Ivan said walking over to the first vegetable aisle and grabbing some food he remembered were on the list and putting them in the cart America was pushing behind him. 

They ended the conversation after that. Instead they worked on getting all the supplies Ivan wrote down. So far the food he grabbed filled up the metal cart almost to the top. 

“Why did you get so much?!” Alfred asked. He was having no trouble pushing around the heavy cart. Sometimes when turning the whole cart it had to be lifted from the ground, by the blue handle that America was holding, to make the sharp turns. The isles were very thin in here. 

“You only want to go to the grocery store once a month so of course I am going to have to buy in bulk.”

“Yeah but still, I can get a whole month's worth of food, and only get half the amount you got, and probably spend way less! Dude, your gonna run my wallet dry!” 

“The junk food you eat, is simply not healthy. Which is why it is cheap. You also eat a lot of fast food and pizza so of course you're not going to spend as much here.” Ivan explained while checking which potatoes were good and bad. “If I wasn't living with you and making dinner every night all you would eat is garbage.” 

“Would not! Yoiu know just because I haven't really cooked since you arrived doesn't mean I never cook!”

“Mmhm, okay.” Ivan doubted. He chose tied the bag of potatoes and placed them in the cart.

“You don't believe me, huh?”

“No, not really.”

“Ill prove it to you then! Im making dinner tonight… I think I know exactly what to make too!”

“I don't want you cooking, you will make a mess of the kitchen and I will have to clean it up.” Ivan argued, he was also afraid of eating anything the nation cooked. Not because he was afraid it would be poisoned or something. No, that was the least of his fears. He was more afraid of eating food equivalent to the cooking of America's ex-brother. 

“No, you won't have to worry about a thing! I’ll cook, clean, and show you my decent cooking skills. Win-win if you ask me.” Alfred said nodding with approval, walking with his cart to get his own ingredients. This time Ivan following Alfred around.

He offered to carry the cart for him but the offer was declined. America explained that it was way to heavy and that he could handle it better. Ivan was going to argue that he could handle it as well but decided on following him around. Actually kind of happy for a small break, instead he observed. 

He noticed the store as getting more and more crowded with more time that passed. People of all kinds were walking about. Some with carts, others with more determination in their step, walking towards a certain item. 

Ivan also took note of what the American was picking up and throwing unceremoniously into the cart. The other had grabbed beef, extra for his own cooking, most likely so he wouldn't mess with the Russians future plans. 

He also collected beets, cabbage, brown sugar, flour, and a bag of red apples. Alfred said he had the rest of the ingredients at home already; and they started towards one of the many open checkout lines. Ivan thought they were going to get lost with how big the place was, and how many sections there were. 

Ivan was trying to guess what the nation was making by the food he bought, but he could not piece things together. They both set to the process of unloading the cart onto the moving line, having to wait until food was bagged by another employee, before putting the rest of the food on the line. 

“What's the damage?” Alfred reluctantly asked the cashier as he got out his silver credit card from his wallet. The answer his new friend received made even Ivan cringe. 

Alfred quickly paid and thanked the employees before grabbing the cart and pushing it towards the doors that slid open by themselves when they got close. How the doors did that still baffled Ivan, only a little bit though. He was still used to the ages of the past he thrived in. Ivan sometimes missed the days when kids and adults alike would be outside enjoying the earth and socializing more instead of staying holed up in their homes. Electricity was nice too though. 

The outside was colder than when they first went into the store. The sun was also closer to the ground then before. They were in the store for a good few hours it seemed. They swiftly walked to where America’s car was parked. Alfred occasionally pushed the cart then jumped on the bar on the front, riding it until it slowed down again. 

He drove a plain beige honda. A fairly common car at the time. Ivan was surprised when he saw the normal looking car though. To be honest Ivan was expecting a giant truck with an american flag print on it. But thankfully the car was actually decent, if you excuse the small mess of burger wrappers and old cups in the passenger seat floor that they had to clean out.

They placed the bags in the trunk before getting in the car. Alfred of course turned the radio up when the car started, knowing the song playing instantly. Ivan was indifferent to the music, but he preferred his own country's songs a little more.

They pulled into the garage after only a 5 minute car drive. If Ivan knew how close it was he would have walked, at the same time he had to think there would have been no way he would have been able to carry all these groceries back by himself. 

Ivan was unloading with the American, he grabbed two bags in both hands and was about to deliver them to the kitchen and come back for more. When he saw that the his host kept grabbing, and grabbing bags, he was puzzled. 

America had at least 5 or 6 bags on each arm going all the way to his elbows. Then he grabbed the case of water at the bottom that with his empty hands. Ivan could see the bandaged hand carrying the bottles of water. Ouch, that had to sting.

“Hey Ivan, can you put the coke and that last bag on top of the water,” America asked. It dawned on ivan that Alfred didn't plan on taking a second trip to the car, he was trying to take the rest all in one go. The infamous one trip.

“Why don’t you just make another trip?” Ivan asked while putting the measly 4 bags he was carrying down by the cars back tire and grabbed the remaining groceries, stacking them on the water case.

“I don't feel like it,” Alfred stated simply not even noticing the hefty weight being put on his arms. “Okay, close the trunk please.” Ivan watched while doing what was asked of him and grabbing his own bags. America was quickly running towards the open garage door straight to the kitchen. It looked like he was going to drop all the food, but Ivan could see he made it just in time to slam them on the counter with a sigh of relief. Then he began shaking the bandaged hand. It was most likely bleeding again.

Ivan closed the garage door behind him before putting his own bags on the counter, slightly embarrassed he didn't help too much. He figured he could make it up by putting the stuff away, but it seemed the American had other plans. 

“Out! Out!” Alfred yelled, slightly pushing Ivan out of the kitchen. 

“Do you not want any help?” Ivan asked, shocked by the his lazy friends sudden responsibility. 

“Nope! I can do it. Now, shoo, shoo!” The other gestured for Ivan to leave the rest of the way himself. Ivan wasn't used to the sudden kindness; he felt he needed to do something.

“Let me at least put the groceries away!” Ivan asserted, turning around and about to walk back towards the counter. The frozen food was going to go bad if he didn't hurry. But his path was yet again blocked by the shorter, pushing him out the door, more forceful this time. 

“I swear to god Ivan! I said I can do it. Just go watch T.V or knit or something, anything!” America pleaded finally pushing Ivan all the way into the living room and onto the couch. “There! And don't even think about coming in the kitchen.”

He huffed before walking back to the kitchen. Except his trip back was the American walking backwards to the kitchen entryway. Before he went in the nation took two fingers pointing them at his squinting eyes and then to Ivan's wide ones. The he was gone. 

Ivan was astonished. No one ever had been this considerate to him. Excluding his sisters and people who did the kind acts out of fear. This was different and Ivan didn't understand. 

But... Maybe they were closer friends than Ivan thought. This government arranged plan was working wonders! He no longer thought the nation would harm him, and he would never think of harming Alfred now. 

Actually it was quick, to quick, how fast he started thinking of his arch enemy as an allie. His only friend really. Ivan could only hope Alfred thought the same. But since Alfred offered to make him dinner, with no strings attached, then he just might. 

Ivan smiled, a sudden warmth filling him, while going to retrieve knitting needles from his room before coming back downstairs. Casually sitting in the recliner and getting to work on the blue and red blanket he had been working on since he came to the United States. 

Ivan was smiling to himself, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere of the house. He could hear America moving stuff around and cutting up different ingredients for his dish. Ivan was getting more curious after every sound. He was so tempted to just take a little peak in the kitchen. Easily take a little peek- wait no. America had asked him to not look in and he would honor this simple request. That's what friends do!

Ivan tried distracting himself with his knitting. Yet soon enough though the house started to smell. The smell was familiar but he couldn't quite place it. Ivan soon gave up and continued working on the soon to be large blanket. 

He watched the sun go down and the watched the sky get dark soon after. But before the moon came up a their was a pleasant sunset that made Ivan admire the changing placid blue. Becoming even more content when he started taking in the sound of Alfred humming softly in the kitchen. 

Ivan ended up turning on the news out of boredom after another hour, he could only knit for so long. He was watching the afternoon news, when another smell came into a play. A sweeter smell. Ivan was going to drool at this rate.

“Are you making desert?” Ivan yelled over the news. It was currently showing the forecast for the next week: Sunny with slight chances of showers towards the end of the week. The end of spring was soon and with the heat came the raining season. 

Now that Ivan thought about it, it was almost time for the both of them to go to the Russian Federation and stay at his own home. He would have to ask Alfred when they should leave.

“Yeah! But dinner's about done; You could come in now if you want to,” America burst out. Ivan turned off the T.V and tried to hide the quick pace he was using to get to the kitchen. 

The mix of smells were stronger in the kitchen, he knew that smell, it was on the tip of his tongue! But when Ivan entered the kitchen sadly he couldn't see the dish. All that was seen was a large pot, an oven mitt under it to keep it from damaging the table, and a lid over the pot. Hiding the nagging secret.

“What do you want to drink?” Asked the chef. Who was opening the white oven and taking a peek inside before quickly closing it.

“I have my vodka,” Ivan answered quickly not really paying attention to the question. At the moment he was walking over to the table and lifting the lid. 

“Oh! Is this Borscht!?” Ivan asked quickly. He did know this smell, and very well! It’s one of his favorite dishes, he hadn't had any though in a long while. Ivan was slightly annoyed it took him that long to figure it out. 

“Awwww! It was supposed to have a grand reveal,” Alfred complained sadly walking over to the table with the bowls and the silverware. 

“I'm still surprised. But how did you know it was one of my favorite dishes?” he wondered. He knew he never shared that information with America.

“Uhhh… I- I think that's just a coincidence big guy.” Ivan just realized what he said and felt like a fool just then. Of course America did not know, it was just a happy coincidence. That was all. Although Ivan couldn't help wonder why make this dish exactly? 

“Oh, of course. I mean where did you learn to make this?” Ivan asked sitting down and taking out his flask for dinner happily. It smelled delicious! The fumes drove away Ivan's questioning thoughts momentarily. 

In the last few months he has lived here he made plenty of other dishes, some American and some Russian. But he couldn't prepare the beet soup, he never had the proper ingredients to make it. 

“...I forgot. Anyway! Let's eat!” America answered hesitantly and quickly changed the subject. Ivan was a little wary now. Ivan figured the nation was maybe just too embarrassed to say he learned how to make it for Russia. Oh how sweet of him!

“Thank you Alfred. I am very surprised you proved me wrong.” Ivan grabbed the ladle in the pot pouring the red hot soup in his own bowl. He was about to get up and retrieve the sour cream but it was already on the table. His new friend really knew how to make it properly, thinking of everything. 

“Yeah man, of course I did. But I can make plenty of other dishes too! I still have dessert in the oven,” Alfred announced before getting his own bowl full of soup. Ivan proceeded to take a sip of the soup… It was rather good. 

Of course not exactly the same as his own people's way of preparing it. But there are plenty of different ways of making the famous dish. So there was no wrong way really. But the Americans way of making it seemed almost old. 

The ingredients used were used a long time ago, not as much now. Ivan was cut off from his thoughts when the nation across from him spoke up.

“..Sooo, is it good?” Ivan looked up and saw the nation staring at him. Trying to read Russia’s expression on the dish. 

“Its very good! Spasibo,” Ivan thanked happily before taking another bite, the flavor bursting in his mouth. America sighed with a relieved smile and starting eating himself. 

The kitchen was the covered in a comfortable silence. Both of them enjoying the food and every now and then taking a look out into the night sky. It was a full moon, not the best for stargazing but a nice view none the less. It was a little cloudy too, which reminded him of the weather.

“I was thinking, when do you want to go stay in my country?” Ivan asked. The American looked up suddenly, swallowing the bite he just took and put on a thoughtful expression before speaking.

“Hmmm. Well whenever it's summer time works for me,” Alfred answered nonchalantly. 

“How about the beginning of June?” It’s warm enough by that time. The month was coming up soon though.

It's not like Ivan wasn't having an enjoyable stay. It was just getting difficult with all the paperwork he had to send out and receive in the mail. 

“Yea- wait! I kinda want to stay in the states for the July 4th. Can we postpone it one more month?” 

Ivan took a moment to think. Why was July 4th important? Wasn't it the nation's birthday? Known for all the fireworks and grilling? Russia didn't have any of that on July 4th, it was just like any other normal day at his home. 

That wouldn't be much too fun for his new friend. Even though he really wanted to deny the nation's request, friends made sacrifices for each other. 

“Da. That is fine.” Ivan answered and continued eating, occasionally taking a sip of his beverage.

“Thanks man! Don't worry, you're gonna have fun at my place. The fourth of July is the best holiday. There's fireworks, sparklers, hambu-!”

Their was a soft beep from the oven suddenly, cutting the other off. The American got up quickly and put on an oven mitt, on his good hand, then proceeded to take out a steaming pie. Apple pie. The smell was intoxicating, Ivan was tempted to move the other half of his soup aside and eat the sweet pastry instead. 

But that would be rude to his host, because he spent so much time on preparing the main dish. But even Ivan heard of the young country's apple pie, and how good it was in the U.S.A. It was one of the things they were known for, next to hamburgers, gambling, and guns. 

Ivan can't say he didn't rush through the rest of his soup to get to the dessert though. Which was what the nation across from him did too. Ivan didn't regret not enjoying one of his favorites dishes thoroughly. The pie, his new friend made them, was too good to wait for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for taking so long to post this chapter. I just have been so busy in the last week! You should now expect updates every two to three days again. Also thanks for the encouraging comments and kudos everyone! : D


	6. Friends?

The soft sound of birds chirping was the first thing to awake Ivan from his deep slumber. That night before he opened his window to let in the cold draft. The house he resided in was a little too hot sometimes. He asked Alfred to turn the heat down, but the other rejected the suggestion immediately and wouldn't budge on the issue afterwards. 

With the window open he could hear the sound of birds, leaves rustling from the large oak tree by the house, and light traffic of the nation's capital. He opened his eyes slowly, the sun was up and happy to see him. 

Ivan wasn't happy to see him, especially in his vulnerable eyes at such an early hour. They hadn't adjusted to the sudden light causing Ivan to quickly look away, turning his whole body around. 

The sheets ruffled as he turned over and was met with the cool side of his pillow. Ivan layed there for a few minutes, if he tried really hard maybe he could fall back asleep…

“FUCK!” An angry voice yelled from downstairs that followed after a loud thump. This startled Ivan awake, sending him straight up in a defensive stance. 

It was just America. Of course, who else would it be. Ivan groand loudly and proceeded to rise from bed. 

There was no point in even trying to get to back to sleep, he got so close too. A glance at the clock, next to the fresh sunflowers, told him it was about 7:30. The usual time he got up, but Ivan was more tired this morning. 

His oh so very considerate friend had decided to pick up a new video game before coming home that day from his own capital building. He decided to play this game from 5 o’clock yesterday to apparently almost 8 this morning.

All night Ivan would occasionally hear America yell some sort of profanity in anger then saying he gave up, but he wouldn't stop playing. No matter how many times Ivan told him to turn it off or shut up the other wouldn't listen.

Eventually after Ivan was about to take the system away Alfred panicked, saying he would be quite this time. Ivan gave him one more chance. Luckily for them both Alfred kept his promise and Ivan was able to get to sleep at around 2am. 

That is until now. Ivan put on more appropriate clothes, not wanting to walk out in his pajamas. Along with his scarf of course. He continued down the ever tiring stairs and to the kitchen to make himself some tea and breakfast. As he went downstairs he started noticing the faint smell of cooked food. 

“Morning Ivan,” Alfred said. It was unnatural to Ivan hearing them directed at him first. America was always went to bed late and awoke late. 

“Dobroye utro… Did you stay up all night?” Ivan asked sitting down on the empty couch for a minute. He already thought he knew the answer, but there was always the chance that maybe the other just got an early start. America was on the floor right in front of the T.V, he was in the middle of a swamp of wrappers and mugs. 

The designer mugs were most likely filled with coffee from earlier in the night. How the carpet was still clean of any stains surprised him.

“Yup. I also kinda got bored earlier, cause I couldn't get past this one part in the game, so I made breakfast. Anyway I beat that part and now i'm at the final boss, finally. But I cant beat him! I have tried so many times, it's impossible!” Alfred continued whining about his game. 

Saying he will never beat it, yet he kept playing. Ivan got bored with the others rambling and walked into the kitchen to find plenty of used dishes in the sink. 

The other obviously cooked, but there was no food in sight. Ivan was a little disappointed Alfred didn't make him any breakfast. 

When Ivan cooked a large morning meal, which was at least once a week, he always made enough for the both of them. Even a little extra sometimes for their lunch. Ivan felt betrayed.

He sighed loudly, grabbing the bright red tea kettle and filling it with water. Placing it on the gas stove, the small flame under it burning like a flower. He grabbed the the tea bag and a lemon slice from a plastic bag in the fridge he cut earlier in the week. 

“What are you making in there?! I made you food too!” Alfred yelled from the living room, along with the same fighting sounds over and over again in the background.

“You must have eaten it all America,” Ivan yelled back loudly. He was getting irritated. 

“What? No man. Check the microwave.” Ivan turned and spotted the white microwave built in between the cabinets. He opened it and found a plate full of extremely greasy food. Ivan was filled with joy anyway, he wasn't forsaken by his only friend. 

Oh, and look at all the food their was, just for him. Ivan smiled, closing the small door and pushing the buttons that beeped a different tone every time he used one, setting it for 35 seconds. 

After making his camomile tea and adding his lemon to it he grabbed the now steaming plate from the microwave. He sat down at the table and took in account what was actually on the plastic plate in front of him. 

There was two pieces with toast on top, hashbrowns, and bacon. Ivan was sure he could see the bacon grease dripping off of it and mixing with his cooked potatoes. 

Ivan cringed oh dear god. It was all so greasy and fatty. It was nice of the American to think of him, and cook him so much food! 

But how did America eat this kind of food everyday?! The toast and egg he could eat, that's actually how he sometimes made his egg. America must have noticed that. 

The rest… Would Alfred notice if he threw it in the trash? Ivan would feel guilty, but that was better than getting sick.

His hopes were crushed though when his friend walked into the kitchen and sat across from Ivan. 

“So what do you think?” Alfred asked with a smile.

“Umm, I have not eaten yet.” Ivan took a sip of his tea, not minding the burning of his tongue. It would buy him some time. 

“Well go on then,” America put his head in both hands, eagerly waiting for Ivans reaction to the food. 

Ivan put down his now empty tea cup and sighed. Maybe he could get the other distracted.

Ivan looked to the American taking in his messy hair. Most likely from his frustrated pulling of it. His hair still looked beautiful, even in its messy state. 

It seemed to shine, brightening up the room like the sun itself. Ivan made eye contact, gazing into those usual ocean blue eyes. 

Yet this time there was red around them, and a slight less lively look to them. That’s to be expected from staying up all night.

“Aren't you tired America. Why don't you go get some sleep?” Ivan tried. 

“Yeah I guess, but I can sleep later. Stop avoiding my food and eat it!” Alfred burst out. 

Ivan flushed a little at being caught, he grabbed a fork and took a small amount of hash brown onto it. 

Hesitantly lifting the utensil to his mouth and taking it in.... It was actually not that bad, it tasted even a little plain with only a bit of bacon, from the grease. He could eat this, sure it wasn't the best. But not the worst either. 

Ivan swallowed and took another bite before speaking. “It's good, thank you.”

“Your welcome big guy, I know it's not your favorite stuff. But it's really the only breakfast I know how to make, besides my mediocre pancakes and french toast. You might like biscuits and gravy more though, I can those pretty decently.” 

Alfred continued rambling while Ivan ate. Finishing the hash browns quickly and forcing down the bacon. He saved the eggs and toast for last. As they say, save the best for last. 

“Hey! Why don't you come with me?” Alfred asked. Ivan wasn't listening to the nations blubbering, so he had no idea what he was asking.

“...Go where?”

“Have you been listening to anything I said. Go up to the blockbuster to grab a new movie to watch tonight or something? I have to return this game, if I have it with me I'll feel I have to finish it.” America explained leaning back in the chair sinking down a bit to slouch in the chair. 

He could feel America legs stretch out and go between his own under the table. The friendly contact felt nice.

“Da, I can join you. What time are you planning on going?” Ivan asked, he was sure his hair was a little messy, not as much as Alfred's, and he needed to shower himself. 

“Whenever. Just before the end of the day.” Alfred started to get up again, feeling the conversation was over. 

“Alright. I'm gonna try one more time to beat this, just one more. I really want to know how it ends,” he stated before running off, back to his “unbeatable” game. 

Ivan laughed at that and poured more tea into his mug, it was one with the star wars logo. Not to long ago America showed him all three of them. Of course he owned all of them on VHS. Ivan thought they were a little slow, and repetitive, and predictable. 

He remembered the others face when Ivan asked in the first movie if Darth Vader was Luke's father. His reaction was priceless. Ivan couldn't help laughing fondly at the the memory while finishing his breakfast. 

When he finished he put his plate and fork in the crowded sink. There were so many dishes... and Ivan refused to do them. He would let America do the chore, he did it last time he made dinner. He could do it this time too. 

Ivan made his way back to his room to get ready, passing the the American who was on the verge of having a temper tantrum again. 

Ivan grabbed a fresh towel from the linen and some clothes. The ones he put on this morning he realized were the ones he wore yesterday, he was so tired yesterday he just left them on the ground when he changed. 

He then proceeded through his morning routine. Brushed his teeth, took a shower, and got dressed efficiently. Ivan could say honestly he was a little excited to go out with his friend. They always had fun when they went out fun together. 

Even the normal things were better together. They always had something to talk, or banter, about. 

After he was ready Ivan grabbed his wallet, throwing it in his jacket pocket, and proceeded back to the living room. Their was Alfred, just as he left him almost 40 minutes ago. 

His eyes looked even more red staring at the T. V, tired eyes filled with anger and determination. Ivan sat down in the same spot he sat earlier that morning, to watch the game the other had stayed up all night playing. It must have been good.

The quality was very new, not that Ivan knew a lot about video games anyway. The only game he ever played was Tetris, Ivan thought he was good at that game at least. But this game was much more different and unique. 

A first person shooter. How violent, Ivan thought. He watched as the character health bar lowered suddenly and America started yelling repeatedly. Then the screen lit up with “Game Over.”

“That's it! I'm done, I mean it this time.” Alfred quickly got up. And ran for his room, stomping up the stairs. If he looked back at the screen he would most definitely feel the urge to continue. 

“I'm going to get ready!” Alfred yelled from upstairs before slamming his bedroom door. 

Ivan decided he would pack up the game. Pulling the game from its slot and putting it back in its case. 

He turned the system off, after trying many other buttons, and turned the T.V was on. The “Good Morning America” show was on, as it was every morning. He liked this program because it didn't talk just about America but the a decent amount about the rest of the world. 

This morning they were talking about the growing waters of the Mississippi and Missouri rivers. The midwest as having a water overflow problem. 

Apparently due to large, seemingly endless, storms in the last week the flooding grew quickly and suddenly. The footage helicopter footage of major cities and towns covered in water was devastating. 

It was only luck that allowed people to get out of the area before too much harm could come to the U.S citizens. There were not a large amount of casualties reported. But a lot of land was becoming a mucky wasteland. 

He started to worry how Alfred was taking the damage. With them being nations, whatever effected their citizens or their land affected them too. 

Was Alfred sick or hurt? Ivan thought suddenly with realization. Then the story changed to something else. Something important about global affairs, but Ivan wasn't listening. He was washed over with worry in the last few minutes. 

His new friend was maybe sick and Ivan didn't even notice! Oh no he was a terrible companion. Alfred would not like him anymore and then he would kick Ivan out, the deal between their countries off. 

And Ivan would have to return back to his empty house, alone. At this point Ivan was pacing around the living room, thinking of ways to make it up to the other. He could take care of him of course, he could go to the nearby mcdonalds and buy him food. 

Wait no, not that if Alfred was sick he didn't want him to eat greasy food. That would only make him feel worse. If he was hurt Ivan was sure he could help with some sort of remedy or bandaging. Just like last time with the now healed hand. 

Ivan continued pacing this time making his range of walking farther going around the living room through the kitchen around the dusty dining table and back out. 

“What ya doin, bud?” America asked. His hair was damp, most likely from a shower but brushed smoothly. That cowlick still up. He wore a new pair of clothes, but Ivan didn't look at his attire. He looked at his face, searching for signs of pain or fever. 

All he met were confused, less, bloodshot eyes. “You oka- W-what are you doing?”

Ivan had proceeded closer, putting the back of his hand on the other cheek then moved to the forehead. Just the usual heat America gave off. 

“Im checking your temperature, are you feeling sick? Or maybe in pain?” Ivan asked quickly. Words mixing together in a rush. For a moment he thought he said them in Russian on accident, since Alfred just kept staring at him, looking even more confused.

“Why would I b- Oh! You watched the news, huh?” America looked towards the T.V. Seeing just as he predicted. They were covering the story again. How long had he been pacing?

“No i'm good man. All healthy!” Alfred exclaimed giving a reassuring smile.

Ivan realized how close he had gotten to the other. So close he could smell the lovely, cheap, shampoo the other used in their hair mixed with his own natural musk. The distance didn't seem to bother Alfred at all. Ivan backed up quickly, no longer wanting to embarrass himself. But he still had to make sure.

“..Are you sure you're not affected at all?” It had to be doing something, especially with how large scale the spread of water was. 

“Well… I got a bit of a rash on my back,” Alfred then started to turn around and lift up his shirt. Revealing the endless desert of tanned skin. But then once the shirt reached his shoulder blades there was the rash. It was an almost blood red color that spotted along the upper back. 

He couldn't tell how far the splotches went up, the shirt blocking the rest. He felt the need to touch them, but that would be rude and really weird he had to admit. 

“Does it hurt?” Ivan asked. He wasn't sure what he could do for this. Maybe a type of ointment, but nations don't really get a lot of help from medicine.  
“Nah, not really.. Sometimes it burns a little, but nothing I can't handle. I'm the hero after all!” Alfred said dropping the shirt quickly, hiding the golden, perfectly toned, expanse of body. Turning around and facing Ivan’s thoughtful expression.

Just as he thought. There was nothing he could do for America. Ivan was relieved even, America couldn't be angry at him for finding out so late. He sighed and sat down heavily.

“Yes, of course. What was I thinking,” Russia teased at himself and America. Him for making a fuss and America for calling himself a hero.

“Not to sure dude. But I appreciate the sentiment. It's good to know someone cares,” America sad with a laugh and sitting in the cushion next to Ivan. 

Ivan then realized how Alfred hadn't put his back against the back of the couch. That's why he was sitting on the floor earlier, or maybe he was overthinking it. 

“What do you mean?” Ivan made eye contact with America. Just noticing the hint of hurt in those eyes.

“It's… Nevermind, it's nothing. Not important,” Alfred answered looking away. The small emotional distress looked odd on Alfred. This was a first. 

“It's important if you are upset about it,” Ivan said, a piece of advice his older sister said to him long ago. Trying to coax out the others reason for distress. Their was a long awkward silence before America spoke up.

“Well… You would think someone would think to ask me how I am. Ya know, with one of the biggest floods happening in, literally, the middle of my country.. Not even Artie or Matt has called me.” Alfred looked in the totally opposite direction, embarrassed by, what he thought, was childish behavior. 

Ivan didn't think so though. To be honest he had the same thoughts on several occasions. Sometimes not even his sisters would call him anymore when he was in distress. Alfred lifted his hand, placing it on his knee and resting his head on it. 

Ivan got a good look at his clothed back, he barely noticed the end of another mark on the back of neck, peeking above the collar.

Ivan didn't know what to do. He wasn't very good at these kind of things. He didn't know how to provide comfort. It's been so long since he had received any and it felt even longer for how he wished for it. The awkward silence after America's statements was growing, and it was worrying the both of them. 

Ivan knew friends gave hugs as comfort, as he wished for them himself. But he wasn't sure if that would be the right move at the moment, plus he was afraid he might touch his rash and it would cause him some discomfort. Instead Ivan offered words. 

“Well I care.. And I think it's not that they don't care. They know you can handle it. Because you are a hero, as you stated earlier.” Ivan added that part last part in hoping it would brighten his mood. Even though he couldn't see his expression he could see Alfred's ears perk up. 

“...Yeah your right. Plus they know I have friend here. So they know I have help, if I need it.” America babbled.. His mood making a complete 180 turn. Ivan wasn't paying attention after America said “Friend” though. He was filled with more warmth at that word. 

It was the first time he ever used the word to describe his roommate. Ivan was joyous that he wasn't the only one who thought they were more than just acquaintances, but friends. A much more intimate word. 

Alfred got up quickly putting his hands on his knees, lifting himself up from the couch swiftly. “Well i'm embarrassed.. Let's get a move on!” Ivan watched as America extended a hand toward Ivan. 

He was helping him up, a soft smile on his face in a silent thank you for the comfort. Ivan grabbed the hand, giving back his own little smile in an also silent welcome. 

Ivan was lifted up quickly, he barely had to use his legs to get standing, only using them for balance. Ivan's hand felt empty and more cold, more than usual, when America's left, and for a second he wished it would return. 

 

They decided on walking on walking to the blockbuster, being only 3 blocks away. The walk was filled with a comfortable silence, occasionally someone would comment on something other than that it was the two of them. The two of them enjoying the weather, the naturality of the other humans that passed by, and, at least for Ivan, the company. 

When they entered their destination Alfred dropped the game in a little square hole in the wall before walking towards the many, many, rows of films. Ivan had never seen so many movies in one room.

“You can choose one if you want to. I already have something in mind,” and with that Alfred walked quickly off to find what he was here for. Ivan was left by himself, watching the other disappear into the aisles, he decided to take a look around. Not wanting to stand there awkwardly by himself, any longer.

As he walked down the aisles every now and then he could look up and find that unruly piece of hair between the shelves. Moving back and forth between a certain section. 

Every now and then it would disappear for a minute, and later return. Ivan also looked at the movies, there were plenty of movies he had seen, and some he hasn't. He got curious and took a look in the foreign film section; maybe there would be something from his own country. 

Sadly there were none. A lot of japanese and chinese films, but zero russian ones. Ivan couldn't really find anything he was interested in, so he made his way over to America who was scanning the shelf over and over again. 

“What movie are you looking for?” Ivan took a look at the films, they were in the horror section. 

“I'm looking for this one movie Kiku said I should watch.He watched it before me, and it was made in my country too!” Alfred looked as if he was about to give up on trying to find it. 

“What is the title?” Ivan asked, he couldn't find a movie for himself so he might as well help. 

“I don't remember. I know the cover is of a little girl’s back, facing an old T.V.”

Ivan then proceeded to take a look around. Scanning the bloody and creepy faced covers that were the horror section. He went into the next aisle to see if anything might have got caught up in the drama section. 

To his surprise half of the shelf on that side was horror. It seemed they ran out room and had to move the rest of the scary movies to the drama section. Ivan easily found a cover that resembled what Alfred had described earlier and brought it back to him. 

“Is this it?” Ivan asked handing the movie over. Alfred turned and his face brightened, Ivan already knew the answer.

“Yeah it is! Where was it? I have been looking like crazy for the last 10 minutes,” He asked turning the case over and reading the back. 

“It was over there,” Ivan explained pointing behind him. “There must not be enough room over here, so they moved many films to the other side.”

“Ah. Well thanks big guy. Did you find anything you wanted to watch?” Alfred asked after seeing Ivan's hands were empty. 

“Nyet. But I can just watch what you chose.”

“..Well we need something to watch after this creepy movie,” he explained and putting on a contemplative face. “...Oh I know!” Alfred said walking with purpose to the new releases section. 

“I saw this movie not to long ago, but it's already one of my favorites. It's really good,” the other explained as Ivan followed him. 

Watching as he quickly scanned the small shelf, grabbing one with a baseball bat with several hands on it. Ivan didn't know much about baseball, all he knew was that it was very famous here in America. It only made sense Alfred liked the sport too. 

They went up to the cashier, Alfred renting one movie, and buying the other movie, which Ivan found out was called, “The Sandlot.” 

They thanked the cashier and America grabbed the plastic bag while walking out.Ivan went ahead holding the door for Alfred, the other thanking him. The way back was longer than expected, because they ended up taking a walk around a park, after Alfred noticed Ivan looking at the lovely sidewalk between large oak trees and benches. 

People were riding their bikes on the smooth sidewalks, some elders feeding the pigeons with bread crumbs, and others simply having lunch in the sunny green field. Enjoying the warming weather of spring.

As the two of them walked they got to know each other a little more, playing a little trivia game, which was Alfred’s idea. Ivan learned Alfred favorite color, food, flower, and sport. All of which were no surprise to him, just as he expected the answer was baseball. 

The flower question was asked by Ivan when they went past a small flower salesman in the park. The sunflowers caught his eye, as the always did. Which reminded him…

“Alfred?”

“Hmmm?” He hummed in between bites of his second hotdog. He got Ivan one too earlier, as it was lunch time, and they weren't too bad much to Ivan’s surprise. 

“Why do you always buy sunflowers for my room?” 

Alfred chocked a little bit finishing his last bite, coughing heartedly. Ivan would have patted his back if it weren't for the rash. Once his throat cleared he answered.

“Well I don’t know. I mean they brighten the room, right?” 

“That is true. But you could have gotten any other flower. How did you know I would like sunflowers?” he asked.

“Hmm, well I thought you would enjoy those the most. And you seemed to like them since I saw you refill the pot with water that first week. So I figured, might as well keep em comin… If you don't like them I can stop?”

“Oh no, I enjoy them alot. I was simply asking your reasoning and thanking you,” Ivan quickly explained. “Although I would like to repay your thoughtfulness.. What's your favorite flower?” 

America flushed a little at that, obviously not expecting anything in return. Ivan realized at this moment how kind Alfred was. Thinking back to the cold war, the Vietnam war. How he always gave to others and expecting nothing in return. How was this man his enemy for so long?

“Uhh, well.. I kinda like roses. They are the my countrys flower afterall. But there is really no need, I don't need anything in return. It's my pleasure!” Alfred said waving Ivan off. 

Alfred quickly turned and throwing his wrapper into the convenient garbage can, he missed when threw it. So with an exclamation of how close he was he ran to pick it up, disposing it properly. While Alfred was doing this, Ivan walked over to the sales man. 

He asked for one single red rose, after finding them, Ivan always felt roses looked better in singles rather than a bouquet. When he turned around he found America not by the garbage can or the sidewalk waiting for him. Instead he was helping a small child get back on her bike. 

It seemed it was her first time riding without training wheels; she was wearing elbow and knee pads and a pink helmet. Her father was running up, very far behind. She apparently went too fast and lost control. America helped her up, after seeing she was not hurt, and turned the bike around for her. To go back to her dad.

He held on to the front and back while she scrambled on to the seat, the bike was a little too tall for her. Once she was on, she started shakily pedaling, then she was off. Proving exactly what Ivan was thinking. Such kindness. 

Ivan watched the whole interaction with content, smiling while he walked up. He tapped America, who was giving a friendly wave to the father, on the shoulder handing the flower to him.

Alfred took it and thanked him, his face red with one of the fiercest blushes Ivan had ever seen. Ivan giggled and they started back home. 

On the way he explained the whole interaction he just had when Ivan asked. Even though Ivan knew exactly what happened. He was happy to hear it anyway. They got home around 5 o’clock. 

Quickly getting ready to watch the movie, if they wanted to watch both they needed to get started. First they watched the horror film. 

They got ready by closing the blinds on the soon setting sun, the sound of popcorn could be heard coming from the microwave. The house started smelling of the cooked kernels and large amounts of butter. The movie they got was titled “Poltergeist” and it was an older one. 

It actually came out 10 years prior, which is why he asked America why he hadn't watched the movie yet. He stated that scary movies are better to watch with other people. 

Even with it being bright outside the living room was decently dimmed, the only light was coming from the T.V. The movie opens up to a family, a wife, a husband, and their 3 children. The house was, of course, haunted. It being built on a graveyard. Hor predictable.

The youngest child was communicating with the paranormal beings through the old television set after a sign off. As little Carol Anne talks to the T.V a second time, Ivan took a glance next to him. He was sure he was going to find Alfred acting like every other movie. 

But instead of finding him in his immersed state, he was hiding half his face behind a pillow. Legs up on the couch, almost in the fetal position. And was he moving closer to Ivan? Instead of being on the other side side of the three people couch. He was in the middle. 

There was a sudden loud static sound and when he looked at the T.V he saw a hand coming out of it the screen in the movie. The hand zoomed past and into the wall, then an earthquake. The child speaking the words on the cover. “They're here.” 

He could see America squeak a bit hiding his face in the pillow. He was scared? From this? Ivan was surprised and didn't know what to do. This movie was laughable by how ridiculous it was. America seemed to think otherwise. Should he comfort him? Should he turn off the movie? 

They were fine for a bit again. Alfred more comfortable watching the day scene, at first nothing was happening. The pillow back in his lap, that is until furniture started moving by itself in the movie, then the pillow was right back up. 

“Dude, that is soo freaky!” Alfred whispered to Ivan. 

“If you want I can turn it off,” Ivan suggested. If America was scared, as ridiculously un-scary this movie was, he didn't want him to be. 

“No! No, I can finish it. I'm not scarred,” Alfred exclaimed quickly. Shakily taking the pillow away from his face. Ivan huffed, of course he wouldn't let him turn it off. 

They continued watching the movie, it slowly getting creepier and creepier. Ivan was starting to get a little weirded out by the intense story line. 

When the demons starting coming for the family, Alfred became...jumpy. With his eyes closed he grabbed on to the closest object to his right, which just so happened to be Ivan. Alfred held on to him for dear life, forcing the breath from him, hiding his face in his arm. 

Ivan was astonished, not that Alfred was afraid of a simple movie. He knew that know. No, it was the fact that someone came to him for comfort twice in a day.

Never had that happen, always turned down at the chance to give some because he was most likely causing the distress. He might never get used to this. Ivan slowly wrapped his arm around Alfred careful of his upper back, instead he placed it in the middle. 

He could feel the heated skin under his touch through the soft cotton shirt. Ivan even taking the chance of pressing him closer. Alfred never turned away though. Just peeking every now and then at the screen, when it was quiet, then turning his face again when it was loud or something was about to pop up. 

This continued through the rest of the movie, Ivan wasn't sure what happened at the end. All he knew was that he was being held onto tightly and willingly. Ivan wanted it to last longer, but once the movie credits started rolling America sighed with relief. 

He started to lift his face and he and Ivan made eye contact. Alfred quickly scrambled away. 

“S-Sorry bud. I don't know what came over me,” he argued quickly. Turning on the lamp by the couch quickly. Ivan laughed at the younger nations childish antics. “It's fine, Alfred.” Alfred still looked scared as he was looking around the room often, eyes wide. 

“Why don't we put in the other movie, Da?” Ivan tried, feeling to the need to sooth the others nerves. 

“Y-Yeah. Alright,” Alfred got up, dropping the pillow on the couch and moving to put in the other cassette. This movie looked very light hearted so hopefully it would brighten America’s mood. 

Ivan guessed correctly. Even he found this movie more enjoyable than the last. It seemed targeted for kids, but at the same time it was very funny. It made even Ivan laugh, especially during the pool scene. Alfred seemed better now too, the last movie forgotten fairly quickly. 

He was laughing along and pointing things out to Ivan in the movie, explaining to him all the past baseball players and their records mentioned. They made more popcorn, Ivan even having some of the bagged food. 

Soon enough the movie was over and they were cleaning up. An old crochet blanket Alfred ending up using was folded on the back of the couch. The bags of popcorn thrown out and pillows placed nicely in the couch corners. 

Both Ivan and Alfred looked very tired, Alfred more so. The combination of staying up all night and having an active day outside being the main causes. 

Ivan went to the kitchen and saw the dishes still stacked up in the kitchen, now filled with cups from their drinks earlier. Above the sink where a window was laid the rose he bought for Alfred earlier that day. 

It was in a cup that was filled with water, it facing the dark window. The time was on the stove read 8:56pm, but there day was not over yet. “Alfred, will you please do the dishes?” Ivan yelled, locking the door to the back porch in the kitchen. 

“Okay, I will!” Alfred yelled from upstairs. 

“Tonight please!” Ivan exclaimed. He knew if America went to bed, he would sleep forever and Ivan would have to do the dishes tomorrow morning. 

He refused to do so, it wasn't his job this time around. And there was just.. So many. 

“Alright! Geez,” He heard Alfred loudly make his way downstairs. Telling Ivan he was on his way without speaking so. 

Ivan passed the America in the living room, on his way to his own room for some sleep. “Thank you,” Ivan said passing quickly. 

“Yeah, yeah,” America answered, stumbling into the kitchen.

Once Ivan reached his room he did not want to go and brush his teeth or even get undressed. The bed looked so inviting and with his window still open the temperature was just perfect. It was in the mid 50s tonight, earlier today it was in the mid 60s. Lovely weather.

Ivan thought he would feel even more perfect under the duvet on his bed. He got in his pajamas quickly and walked into the bathroom to his brush his teeth. Downstairs he could hear metal pans hitting together every now and then while Alfred cleaned them. 

When Ivan finally reached his bed, falling into ti and other the covers with a sigh he could still hear America rummaging around downstairs, still in the process of cleaning or putting away the dishes. 

 

After a few moments of silence a soft knock awoke Ivan. He thought it was a trick of the ear, or something outside, that is until he heard it again. 

This time a little more frantic. Ivan groaned but got up taking a look at the glowing green numbers. 2:25pm! There was no way time went by that quickly, it felt like only a moment ago was he just laying down in bed, pulling the blanket up to his chest. 

Ivan walked over to the unlocked door, he knew who would be at the door. The fact that only one other person lived with him helped Ivan conclude that. But he didn't expect him awake so late, why was he still up? Ivan was sure he finished the dishes many hours ago.

“Yes Alfred?” Ivan asked through a crack in the door, the light from the hallway was blinding. Alfred jumped when Ivan spoke. 

Not noticing the door opening, instead he was looking around his shoulder when Ivan saw him. His hair was tousled a large amount, and the bags under his eyes were darker.

“Oh, uhh, h- hey Ivan. How are ya?” Alfred asked, he looked distressed. Ivan was not in the mood for silly questions right then.

“What do you want?” he asked, he didn't bother hiding his irritation. 

“Oh um. I was wondering if- if I could just… Sleep in their.. With you?” Alfred asked wringing his hands together. Ivan finally took in America’s attire. He wore only his boxers and the T-shirt he wore that day. Well yesterday now.

Under his arm was his pillow, and in one hand was a blanket that dragged behind him. He hadn't been to sleep yet.

“Why not sleep in y- Oh,” Ivan realized in between his sentence. Alfred was scared of the movie. With nothing to distract him from the ghosts that haunted his own mind, there was no way the other could sleep if all he could think about was that film. 

Of course Ivan was not scarred, he had witnessed much worse in his life then unexplainable moving objects. 

“Yes, Alfred. You may,” Ivan opened the door up more. He let the other quickly walk through, before closing the door behind him. When he turned around he saw Alfred placing his pillow on the ground then his blanket. 

“What are you doing?” Ivan asked standing there with wonder. Watching the American make a bed on the floor. Why would he do that? 

“Uh, getting ready to sleep…” He explained bluntly with a yawn.

“..You may sleep in the bed, if you want to.” He wasn't going to make America sleep on the floor, he wasn't some child. They were both adults.

“You sure, I don't want to take your bed from you?” Alfred asked slowly. Much to slowly for Ivan, he was still half asleep and Ivan wanted to return back to his slumber. He gestured tiredly for Alfred to hurry, signaling him to get in the bed first. 

“Da, yes. I'm sure.” With that Alfred snatched his pillow and blanket swiftly, throwing them on the far side of the bed before climbing in himself. He faced the window, stars showing brightly outside along with a nearby street light. 

“Thanks Ivan.. I appreciate it,” Alfred said. Silently thanking him for understanding, for not making fun of him, for being a friend. Ivan got into bed next to the other, getting under the covers. Moving his pillow more to the end to place his head in the middle of it. 

“Your welcome… dobroy nochi.” He he never got an answer back. Either the other did not know what he said or he already fell asleep. Most likely the latter with how slow the other breathing quickly became. He must have been exhausted. Ivan followed the others example quickly. 

The next morning Ivan would keep to himself how nice the warmth pressed to his back felt. And how he covered the other with his own blanket too, seeing Alfred shivering a bit from the open window 

How he was almost about to lay a small peck on his forehead, almost like it was second nature before getting up. Something he did every morning. Yet he had never done it before, and Ivan was sure that wouldn't be very platonic of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one turned out much longer then expected. Oh well!


	7. Birthday Plans are a go

Ivan was busy making breakfast this morning. Unlike every other breakfast he made in his friend's house this meal he hadn't made in a long time. It was the closest to American food he could cook as well, very similar to the pancake. He was making Blini. 

His reason was that today was a special day, it was his new friend's birthday. Ivan didn't forget, on the contrary, he planned for it. Making sure to remember the day when Alfred first told him. 

There wasn't a party planned, which he was surprised to learn, it was just going to be he and America. It turned out the famous party Ivan always heard about, but never invited too, only happened every 10 years. “But any other Independence day in between was like any other day” Alfred explained when Ivan asked one day. 

Excluding the fireworks that lit up the night all over his country on the fourth of July. Just like any friend Ivan prepared for the others birthday none the less. 

First he would make breakfast (check), then they would go to the Smithsonian (per Alfred's comment on how he wanted to to take Ivan), dinner, then the grand fireworks show at the end of the day, and lastly they would come back for the cake Ivan made for Alfred last night in secret. 

At the moment it was hidden in the fridge. Hopefully Alfred wouldn't open the freezing appliance and notice. 

Ivan looked at the time seeing it was past 10, and the Blinis were going to get cold soon if Alfred didn't come down. They had to get an early start too, if they wanted to get through everything that is. 

Right before Ivan was thinking about waking the other from sleep, he heard footsteps coming down the stairs quicker than usual. Then he heard brisk walking footsteps got through the living room and into the kitchen.

“Morning Ivan,” Alfred said with a grin. It was brighter than his usual morning smiles, in the morning he was usually too tired to do anything then a tight lipped smirk. Those were cute but nothing compared to seeing all of those pearly whites in happiness. 

The other was up and already dressed, it looked like he even showered too with how damp his hair was. He wore a very bright red white and blue shirt, it was literally a just a full print of the Unites States flag on both front and back. 

He also wore a plain pair of jeans that seemed to hug his lower half in all the right places. Ivan quickly looked away, Ivan was staring too much. To long to not be platonic. 

Ever since the horror movie fiasco Ivan started noticing his behavior, how he always took note of the little the little things Alfred did. 

What shirts he favored wearing more. What kind of candy he enjoyed most. What food he put salt or pepper on (salt on watermelon was by far the oddest). What time he got up in relation to when he went to bed. How he always had the cutest bed head when he awoke, not even trying to tame it before going downstairs unlike Ivan. 

The things he noticed was an endless list, and Ivan couldn't wait to learn the rest. He knew it was odd behavior, maybe that's what friends did. Ivan wasn't sure, he had too little experience to fully understand and was to embarrassed to ask. 

“What d’ya make make, big guy?” Alfred asked looking at the food set out on the table. Ivan already got Alfred's orange juice out and in his favorite superhero mug. The Russian pancakes were already set out on two plates. One had whip cream with blueberries and strawberries on it the, the other looking much more plain. 

“Blini, Happy Birthday Alfred,” Ivan said gesturing for Alfred to sit. 

“Aww, for me? T-Thanks!” Alfred said his face reddening a bit at the kind gesture. If he was this surprised by only breakfast; Ivan was going to see a lot more of that flush throughout the day. 

They both took a seat, Alfred digging in wholeheartedly immediately. He seemed to be enjoying the meal. Already eating a quarter of it before Ivan could even start on his own plate. Ivan had never met someone who could eat so fast and so much in one sitting, it was a miracle America didn’t get an upset stomach. 

“Your welcome Fedya.” They both stopped eating, or just starting to eat, instantly. Alfred looking up and staring at Ivan, eyes wide with shock. But Ivan was stuck in his mind, panicking. What did Ivan just call him? Where did that come from?! He said the Russian word so smoothly, like it he had used it for years. He was sure the adult man in front of him didn’t like nicknames. 

“...What did you call me?” 

“Ah spasibo! It was an accident,” Ivan figured it was because the words were very similar sounding, yet easier to say than Alfred’s name. But at the same time the Russian nickname fit America perfectly, Ivan wondered why he hadn’t used it instead of Alfred earlier. He would have to watch his tongue more often. 

“It’s fine dude. But what did you call me?” Alfred was looking at him, expression unreadable.

“Fedya. It just came out, I apologize,” Ivan took a bite of his breakfast trying to bring back the happy atmosphere. The other kept staring at him, like Alfred was analyzing him. Ivan did the same thing watching the others face for clues. There was a sudden hint of sadness and then his usual smile. It was genuine though.

“Don't apologize man. I like it! It’s cute; you can use it if you want,” Alfred continues shoveling his own food. Taking a long sip of orange juice in between. 

“D-da.” Ivan put on a happy smile, he liked that nickname for Alfred, and couldn't wait to use it in the future. But he was surprised Alfred was okay with it, even liked it! At least there would be no more stumbling with his friends name with Ivan’s heavy accent. 

They finished their breakfast quickly, Alfred before Ivan. “I’m going to go watch some T.V.” He got up grabbing his cup and dish.

“Oh wait before you leave, I was thinking maybe we could go to the, what is it called.. Smith..?” 

“The Smithsonian?” The other finished for him, putting his plate and cup in the sink and rinsing them off. 

“Yes that, I remember you saying you wanted to take me. I figured we could go today... That is if you're not doing anything?” Ivan asked starting to finish his own plate as well. He would be a little depressed if America had plans for the day, he should have asked before Ivan made plans for him. 

“Wow! I almost forgot about that! Yeah i’m free, just let me grab my wallet first,” with that the other scuttled off to his room. 

Ivan quickly finished his blini, he didn't want the other to wait on him now. Throwing the plate in the sink, not bothering to rinse it. 

When Ivan walked out he went to the front door where their shoes say sat by side from their last outing. He quickly slipped them on.

“Alright, i'm ready!” Alfred came running down the stairs, past Ivan, and to his own shoes. He put them on fairly quickly, tightening and tying the strings expertly, years of practice allowing so. 

They decided on walking to the Smithsonian, it was a nice day, now that they were fully in the 2nd season of the year. It was almost too hot for Ivan. The forecast for today was 82 degrees Fahrenheit with it getting cooler at night. Ivan he felt he might pass out from the heat, luckily for them the museums weren’t to far away. A perfect day for the American people’s yearly festival though. 

Ivan was puzzled why they didn't call it a festival, even though that was what it was. The streets were decorated with their national colors, all dressed in those colors as well. It was rare to see one person not dressed in any red, white, or blue while walking to the museums. When people weren't in any of those colors they definitely stood out. 

It was a good thing Ivan thought ahead, and maybe did a little research on the festival. He was wearing the colors of the american flag as well, he already had those colors for when he became patriotic for his own country. The U.S.A and Russia did share the same flag colors after all. 

“So do you know which museums you want to go to?” Alfred asked getting in Ivan’s line of sight as the other was looking around the, now even more, colorful city.

“There's more than one?” 

“Yeah big guy. The Smithsonian is a series of museums in one big area. Last I remember there was like 20 or something.” Alfred explained, unphased by the number he just spoke.

“Chto?! I didn't know their was so many. I knew it was a big museum but I thought it was all one building,” Ivan explained, flustered that there was a problem in his perfect plan. He should have went more in depth in his research. 

“Nah man, a lot more than one. That's alright, I wasn't planning on taking you through all of them in one day. It would be impossible! We could maybe do one or two, do you know any?” Alfred asked, thinking about which ones they would both find enjoyable.

“Nyet. I do not. Why don’t you choose whichever ones you want to visit, it is your birthday.” He let Alfred think for a bit and took another look around, finding several kids running around down the street, sparklers in hand. 

They looked excited for the holiday, everyone did. American citizens sure had a lot of patriotism. 

“Well maybe the air and space museum. You would like that one right?” Alfred asked. It was one thing they both enjoyed, space. The one hobbie they ever had in common, a good choice. 

“Yes, that would be nice. Don’t we need another one?” Ivan didn't want any time in between, he didn't plan for an in between time. It was museum, dinner, fireworks, and home for cake. His formula for friendship growth.

“Hmmm, then I guess we could go to the natural history one. Now that I think about it that one is really cool.” 

“Great then we shall go to those two.” Ivan agreed, both sounded very interesting. 

“Now i’m super excited to show you all the things there! Let’s hurry!” With that Alfred smiled wide and picked up their calm pace to something much faster. Ivan had to make much longer, quicker, steps to go as fast as the hyper-active nation next to him.

When they arrived it was heavily packed in the air and space museum. They had to wait a little longer for their ticket than Ivan would have liked, but when he saw the inside; the wait was well worth it.

The inside was had white walls and a plain floor, but the interior was anything but placid. The room was filled with color, suspended from the ceiling were real life planes and on the ground even more. 

Each object in the museum had a podium that explained what it was. First on their tour was the war planes which both Ivan and Alfred pointed out. Remembering them from the long battles, Alfred said he even drove one of the planes from the WW2 section that was suspended from the ceiling. They followed the path created by the red velvet boundary and eventually got to the space section. 

“Look Apollo 11!” Alfred yelled running over to the first ever shuttle to land on the moon. It was strange to think how far they had come in such a short time, if he thought back to it Ivan could remember a time when the moon was thought of as a never reachable object. It wasn't too long ago either. 

Ivan inspected the old shuttle himself, reading the description, even though he knew exactly what it was. 

“Cool, huh?” Alfred said starting to turn and walk so more. “Oh look! You’ll like this part, big guy,” Alfred grabbed Ivan’s upper arm, pulling him through the crowd of people. Ivan having to apologize to everyone he bumped into on the way. 

“See!” Alfred pointed up to a sign that read “50 Years of the Space Age” on the sign was the symbol for communism. As they entered the area, they both found a lot of stuff from the space race. 

To Ivan’s surprise their was a lot of his people stuff, not really theirs but replicas of the objects. As they real ones were in Russia, a few were here though like old space suits and the such. Small things his country didn’t put in their own museums or might have sold off. 

“You know for the space race, people could say you won it,” Alfred said suddenly when they were looking at the sign for sputnik and the replica that hung in the air above it.

“That’s not what I was expecting to hear, actually the opposite,” Ivan puzzled, shocked. 

“Well you were the first nation to reach space, with sputnik,” Alfred gestured to the circular satellite. Ivan was overcome with relief, he was worried there would be bicker session between them on this topic at some point. It’s happened before, but it looks like Alfred decided on being the bigger man in this and admitting his defeat. 

“But, of course I did win the moon race. So I kinda won the whole thing. Since Moon landing trumps satellites.” And their it was. 

“Yes, but you have to remember I was first, and first trumps second” Ivan said mockingly with a smile moving on to the next exhibit. 

“Yeah but that's it!” Alfred huffed following Ivan around as he eagerly reminded them both of all his space achievements from during the cold war. Which Ivan always had a come back to. It was always teasing though, playful banter at most.

They continued through the museum, Alfred showing Ivan all the cool exhibits there, before continuing onto the next building. It seemed Alfred knew where every museum was and what each one had in it. He started to feel bad because this trip was supposed to be for Alfred, not Ivan. 

But Alfred insisted he was having fun showing him around, and that he liked looking at all the old objects all over again. “History never gets old.” The other had laughed, the pun intended. The corny joke managed Ivan to giggle a little too.

The Museum of natural history was more packed than the last one they went to Ivan noticed. People were filed in, shuffling from exhibit to exhibit in a line. The giant elephant they first saw when walking in was surrounded at the base with kids and families, some asking strangers to take pictures of the family all together. 

One family asked Alfred, the family's father not even making eye contact with Ivan while doing so, to take a picture for them which he eagerly agreed to. 

Ivan watched Alfred tell the family of 5 to scoot closer together before taking the picture, handing the camera back to the man. The line was quicker than the aerospace museums ticket line, since several people worked the at this ticket station. 

The exhibits in this museum were a little more exciting Ivan thought. There were a lot of animals he had only heard of or seen illustrations of, yet they looked so lifelike in their glass cages. They looked so angry too, Ivan almost wanted free by breaking open the case. He had to keep reminding himself that they were fake. 

They continued into the dinosaur part, a lot of children were in this area too, a small archaeological section in one of the corners. The large dinosaur skeletons toward over everything, and were very impressive to examine.

Ivan could only imagine what they looked like when they were alive. This exhibit was the most crowded by far. It was hard to get anywhere without saying excuse me to get past someone or if you accidentally ran into someone. 

As Ivan was reading about the triceratops he noticed something was missing. Oh yes, the constant talking of his companion. Ivan looked around, trying to look for Alfred. He was nowhere in sight, just unfamiliar faces met his own. 

“Alfred?” Alfred he said warily, hoping he was near enough to hear him. But he got no response. Just people moving past him, some excusing themselves, others not. 

Ivan walked back the way they came hoping to find him still looking at an exhibit. It was more difficult going against the crowd, and even more awkward by himself. He scanned the heads of hair, there was nothing close to the golden locks Alfred had. Ivan got to an opening under the Tyrannosaurus Rex and stopped to get his bearings. 

He was growing more nervous every second. Ivan wasn't sure why though, Alfred was a grown man, even more so than a normal human, but Ivan couldn't help but be worried. 

After a moment of looking around Ivan figured Alfred might have continued on and proceeded on without him. The idea sad, but most likely true at this point. 

He started walking back, but halfway back to the triceratops he felt a hand on his pulling him to the side. He stumbled a bit but once he got his balance he found himself looking into a familiar face.

“Geez man! I have been looking everywhere for ya, where were you?!” Alfred asked. 

“Looking for you, where did you go?” Ivan accused.

“I was cut off by a group of boy scouts while we were walking. When I finally got passed them, I couldn't find you,” Alfred argued. “Sorry, it’s a lot more packed then I thought it would be today.” Ivan was thankful his original theory as not true, and with the pit of worry inside him gone, he was back to his happy mood.

“It’s fine, now, where else did you want to visit?” Ivan asked, he wanted to change the subject now. Trying to not let on that he was worried or upset over such a trivial matter. 

“We still have the Egyptian exhibit, it’s one of my favorites! But it’s bound to be just as packed… S-So why don’t we stay attached, alright?” Alfred said hesitantly. He wasn't looking in Ivan’s direction. Instead he was looking at the ground, seeming to be scanning the tile for something. But Ivan could see the red on his ears. 

“Yes, that would be best.” With that Alfred shot his head up, face filled with an overbearing beam. He started walking pulling Ivan’s hand along with him.

That’s when Ivan realized what Alfred meant when he said “attached.” He meant it literally, that explained the sudden flush of his face. He felt his heart jump at the realization, and he closed his hand around the other, much tanner one. 

Their hands felt so natural around each other, it made sense how Ivan didn't notice they were still holding hands when Alfred brung him aside and had their chat.

They stayed clasped to each other the whole way through the Egyptian exhibit. Which by far was most intriguing, even though these humans were even older than Ivan, what held him interested was the story of bargaining with the nation Egypt and Alfred for the artifacts. 

The other explained the story so detailed and humorously it was hard not pick out every single word he spoke. Ivan followed those lips’ every motion, how they curved around the english language so perfectly, yet imperfectly if you ask England. 

How red they were, how plump, and glistening. Ivan wanted to reach out and skim his fingers on them more than once...wanted to feel how they felt against his own. 

Ivan knew what that was, he knew where a line was drawn between platonic and something more. But there was absolutely no way that he could ever pursue that, and with America too! He gave the feeling little notice, choosing to ignore it, and walk happily through the rest of the museum hand in hand with his best friend.

Even after they left the museum neither were willing to let go it seemed. One was waiting for the other to let go first, yet neither really wanted to loosen their grip first. “Let’s go out to eat, Alfred,” Ivan suggested. All going accorded to plan. They still had plenty of time until the fireworks started. The sun was only just starting to set when they went outside. The weather was much more bearable for Ivan now.

“Oh yeah, sure man! I know the perfect place,” Alfred said walking, a little faster, with more purpose. Ivan actually had an idea on where they could go, it was somewhere between casual and classy. 

He also heard the food was good there too, but if Alfred had something in mind they could go there too. It was his birthday. The crowds in the sidewalk were starting to thin out as people went home to eat dinner and have their traditional grilled food. 

As they walked Ivan noticed they were getting dangerously close to that unforgettable golden arch. He hoped they were going to pass it, but when they turned into the driveway he knew exactly where he was eating tonight.

“Fedya, do we really have to eat here,” Ivan almost felt bad for whining, almost. Ivan planed on something a little nicer than McDonald's. 

“What?! Dude you have never eaten it before. It’s famous for a reason ya know,” Alfred exclaimed. His hand leaving Ivan’s as he got to the door opening it and letting Ivan in first. 

He sighed and entered, scanning the fast food restaurant, seeing half of the tables filled. There were lightly cushioned booths along with plastic tables and chairs that were filled with families and single people alike. 

“Why don’t you take a seat. I’ll grab us some food real quick,” Alfred exclaimed. He skipped over to the line and waited behind another person who was ordering. 

Ivan walked by himself to an empty booth, one that was free of crumbs or any type of liquid. He folded his hands and waited, awkwardly, by himself. He wished Alfred would hurry, although knowing the amount he bought. Surely it would take a few minutes. 

Ivan realized that America was buying his food too, he was the one who was supposed to be paying for both of them! He turned around and found Alfred already giving the cashier some cash before receiving a receipt. He decided he would pay him back in full when Alfred came with their food. 

After about 5 minutes of Ivan thinking about joining Alfred at the wait counter, he was getting tired of getting stared at by other customers, then he appeared sitting on the other side of the booth. 

America had a large tray in hand and set it down once he sat, giving Ivan a full view of the food. There were at least 6 burgers wrapped in paper and 2 large fries. 

“I got you 2 burgers, and a frie,” Alfred started separating the food, putting Ivan's food in front of him. Ivan picked up the receipt on the tray, but before he could read the price the strip of paper was snatched from his hand. 

“Nu uh bug guy, i'm paying,” Alfred stated putting the receipt in his pants pocket.

“It is your birthday Fedya, please let me handle this at least,” Ivan reasoned, the other wouldn't budge on this, ignoring Ivan’s reasoning. 

Instead Alfred started opening one of his own burgers and taking a hearty bite out of it. As he was chewing Alfred looked at Ivan expectantly, waiting for the other to eat. 

Unlike last time Alfred cooked breakfast for him, he was actually looking forward to eating the famous food. McDonald's weren’t allowed in his country until very recently, and he hadn’t got the chance to eat there, but he was always curious of it. 

He knew it was not the healthiest food, but curiosity got the better of him. He unwrapped the paper around the burger, once the sandwich was revealed he saw the bread, meat, cheese, and lettuce. It looked normal enough. 

He brought it to his mouth and took a small bite, chewing it and tasting it. Unlike America who already finished his first burger and was onto the next one. 

The “cheese burger,” actually, wasn't half bad. It didn’t really taste good or bad. It was something substantially in between. The second bite was a little better, he could finally taste all the condiments and extra ketchup, mustard, onions, and pickles on it. 

The blast of flavor in his mouth was more of a surprise. Why did everyone hate these? They weren’t that bad. 

“Sooo, What d’ya think?” Alfred asked in between mouthfuls. Every once and awhile he would eat some fries too. At least he had the decency to chew with his mouth closed. 

“It is.. Average,”he answered, waiting till he was done chewing to answer. 

“Average! I think you mean fantastic. McDonald's food is the best.” He giggled taking a long slurp from his drink, then offered Ivan some. 

“No thank you. And if you think it is really that good, then sure,” He continued eating his burger. After only the first one he was already starting to get full. He opened the second wrapper anyway and took another bite, he didn't want to waste Alfred’s money. 

Ivan noticed America was already finished with his 3 burgers and french fries, an annoying sound from his empty drink was present as well. Alfred was also staring at his french fries which Ivan only had one or two of. He didn’t really care for the greasy fried potatoes, 

“You can have my.. French fries? Is that the correct word?” Ivan offered.

“Yeah you got it, and are you sure?” Alfred finally put down that empty cup. That sound was starting to get on Ivan’s nerves too.

“Da. I am already full.” Ivan continued eating his burger. He was determined to finish this sandwich.

“Sweet!” The other than started eating his fries with the speed of a starving animal. Alfred would take almost 4 at a time, and chew and swallow in less than 3 seconds, then he would grab another handful. 

Halfway through his second burger Ivan couldn't eat anymore. He sighed and put the half-burger down on the tray, slouching a bit in the booth. 

He washed down the greasy taste with the vodka he always carried around. This only made his stomach even more congested.

“... Are you done? You know you don't have to finish,” Alfred asked suddenly while chewing the straw on his cup. At least he wasn't trying to drink from it.

“I apologize but yes I am done. I can't eat another bite,” Ivan said. He felt awful wasting America’s money like that, after he was so considerate to pay for everything too. But if he ate anymore Ivan felt he might regurgitate it. Usually he could eat more, but his stomach wasn't used to all this grease.

“It’s no prob dude. Here. Let me,” he reached over and grabbed the half eaten burger taking a bite from where Ivan was eating. It only a matter of minutes the burger was gone.

“See, no problem.” Alfred slouched in his seat now, he finally looked full. How could he eat so much?! Ivan checked the time on his wrist watch. It was around 8 now. Ivan turned to look out the window and saw it was starting to get very dark. The fireworks would start soon. 

“Alright let’s head home, i’m beat,” Alfred exclaimed getting up and stretching a bit. 

“Actually I was thinking, you maybe wanted to go see the fireworks?” Ivan suggested. They didn't have to, but he thought Alfred would enjoy that, and he was also a little curious to see the show as well. 

“Yeah sure! I was thinking about it actually. I just thought you might be too tired, and I didn't want to drag you around even more if you were.”

“No i’m not that tired yet, how old do you think I am?” Ivan giggled, knowing Alfred meant no offence. “And it was my idea to go to the museums today and then out to eat. I was dragging you around.” 

Ivan got up, watching Alfred pick up the tray tip the wrappers and cardboard into the trashcan and put the tray on top of a stack of other used trays. 

It was an efficient way to clean up, but they needed an employee to clean the tables or something. A lot of them were a ridiculous mess. 

“Haha, well I guess that’s true. Okay well we better hurry then if we want to get a good spot,” Alfred was suddenly filled with as much energy as they started the day with. 

Like a child who has never seen the fireworks show. He was tugging Ivan’s arm out the door when Ivan sluggishly started walking towards the exit. Maybe his old age was getting to him, even though his body was only in his mid 20s. At least that's what Ivan guessed at. 

The national mall was already packed when the two of them arrived. People sitting on the steps or on blankets they brought. 

Ivan was angry he didn't think to bring a blanket for them to sit on, but it was to late now. If he did he would have had to carry it around all day, so maybe it was better he didn’t. 

Alfred was able to spot a decent seat towards the end of the stairs. Alfred sat down first putting his feet on the second step down from them. Ivan sat down on his right and did the same. 

They seemed to just make it in time too, just as Ivan sat and looked up into the clear sky a single firework went off. A small one, that seemed almost like a flare, that indicated the start of the show. People around them started cheering.

“Oooh, It’s starting! We were just in time!” Alfred shook Ivan’s arm in excitement. Ivan giggled as the other enthusiasm but didn't look at him, instead he was waiting for the rest of the show to start just like everyone else. 

The with a screech from far off more little lights were sent into the sky, then followed by an explosion that set off a burst of color in the sky. 

They sounded like weapons, of guns firing and bombs falling. Yet this sound was not of something meant to cause pain and fear. But meant to give wonder and joy. Much to Ivan’s enjoyment the stream of colors were never ending. 

Flashes of red, white, and blue filled the sky. It was almost enough to blind, yet Ivan couldn't look away. He had never seen anything like it. The sky was not its usual dark with occasional white dots, but with unnatural colors that made the sky even more spectacular.

The giant pool of water in front of them was colored the same as the sky, making the ground and sky mirrors of one another. Ivan's head started ache from looking up for so long, so he looked to the pool for a second then turned to his left. 

Alfred’s face was looking up his hands holding his weight behind him. His mouth open in astonishment, making the “oooh” and “aahh” sounds when everyone else did around them. 

His face lit up with every boom above them, the color shining on his face and exposed neck. His hair and skin getting a bit of the hue too, his glasses reflecting the flower-like explosions. 

Ivan couldn't turn away, yes the sky was beautiful. But it was nothing compared to the man next to him at that moment. 

“Oh! I think this is the finale,” Alfred stated taking a glance to his right. The two made eye contact, Ivan flushed at being caught staring, but Alfred just smiled and turned back. An innocent smile, how unaware Alfred was. 

Ivan forced himself to turn back to the sky, watching the barrage of endless colors in the night. They called it a finale for a reason, the barrage of booms and color well worth viewing. But as quickly as it started it ended with complete silence. 

Followed by resounded cheering and clapping from all around them. Ivan had to admit that was impressive, clapping himself. Alfred sounded like the rest of his citizens clapping and cheering loudly. 

People started talking again, he caught many conversations of how great the show was and how much bigger it was than last years. Children got out their sparklers and started playing with them in the front courtyard waving them around dangerously and making shapes and words with them. 

Okay one more thing on the list. Alfred got up himself and Ivan followed, heading home. Alfred talked of the show and how fantastic it was. Asking if Ivan liked it, which he answered honestly with “yes very much so.” 

They walked through the streets, slowly seeing less people as they got away from the center of the city. 

While the two were idly chatting, there was always the occasional boom and light from fireworks people bought themselves and were setting them off. This got both of their attentions.

Every time there was one close enough they both looked around to find the location of it, sometimes catching another one. 

They reached the house at an extremely late hour, with it being a new moon they would have had no way to see the sidewalk in front of them if it weren't for the street lights. 

Both were tired as they slipped off their shoes in the entrance way. But Ivan still had the cake to give America. 

Alfred went straight to the couch collapsing on it, taking up the whole couch while laying down, and turning on the T.V. The late night news came on, but Ivan ignored it.

He walked into the kitchen quietly opening up the fridge and moving stuff around to reach the back where the cake waited.

It was Medovik, one of Ivan’s favorite cakes and oldest in his country, a type of layered honey cake. It took him a long time to make last night but it was would be worth it, he was sure Alfred would like it. 

Who could resist the sweet temptation of this cake. Ivan couldn't that's for sure, he was drooling from just looking at the pastry. On the top he put powdered sugar on it to make the cake less plain. 

If he had some of his stencils with him he could make little bees on the top, but he didn't, so this would have to do. He unwrapped the saran wrap on top of it and placed it on the table, listening closely for someone walking into the kitchen. Nothing yet. 

He grabbed a cutting knife, 2 plates, and 2 forks setting them on the counter before going into the living room to retrieve Alfred. 

He was on the couch in the same position he left him in. Except instead of watching the T.V his eyes were closed. Alfred could fall asleep so quickly, just like a child. His glasses askew on his face, his long eyelashes splayed out on his cheek. 

He looks the most beautiful in his most relaxed state, where Ivan could look at him endlessly and not get caught. 

Ivan didn't want to wake him up but he really wanted him to have the cake he made him. He could give him the cake tomorrow but it wouldn't be the same, his birthday was today. 

Ivan silently walked closer to the sleeping figure, his breathing was slow, his back rising and falling evenly. Some hair hair was askew on his face, falling into his face. 

Ivan couldn't help himself from brushing it back into place. The little skin Ivan felt was so soft; how he wanted to continue touching that skin. Ivan forced his hand back sadly from Alfred’s forehead and put it on his shirt sleeve, shaking his shoulder a bit. 

“Alfred?” He whispered trying to rouse the sleeping figure. Nothing. Ivan shook with a little more force. “Wake up, Alfred,” He tried again. 

The other awoke finally, his eyes opening slowly and taking a moment to focus. For a moment they were dull, almost hazy but quickly they were filled with some life again, turning to Ivan. 

“...What’s up, big guy?” Alfred asked yawning and rubbing his eyes. 

“Sorry to wake you, but I have a surprise for you in the kitchen,” Ivan said getting up from where he crouched on the carpet. “It can’t wait till tomorrow?” Alfred said turning and snuggling into the couch.

“Nyet. It’s already on the kitchen,” he became a little disheartened at the others earlier question, but he urged on. 

“Okay,” Alfred sighed, but not with annoyance, he was just tired. He rose from the couch, fixing the glasses on his face. 

“Cover your eyes,” Ivan said excited. “I’ll lead you.”

“...Seriously dude. Hehe, Alright,” America laughed covering his eyes with his hands. Ivan smiled and went behind him grabbing his shoulders, guiding him gently towards the kitchen. 

“No peeking,” he reminded when they entered. He made his way to the table, removing one hand to pull the chair out for Alfred to sit in. He sat him down and pushed Alfred’s chair back in. 

“Okay, you can look now,” Ivan assured. Alfred slowly moved his hands away from his face. Taking in the image before him. 

“...Is this for me?” He asked quietly, staring at the cake. 

“Of course. It is your birthday Fedya,” Ivan answered walking over to get the silverware and plates from the counter and bringing them back to the table.

“How big a piece do you want?” Ivan asked with a smile. But Alfred was still staring at the cake, his face blank. It seemed he didn't even hear Ivan, lost inside his own mind. 

“Fedya? What’s wrong do you not li-” Ivan cut himself off though when he noticed Alfred eyes were red and watering. He was crying, and Ivan was panicking. 

“W-What’s wrong Alfred?!” He blurted out, putting the knife down. What did he do wrong? Did he not like the cake that much? Was he disappointed with today? Ivan didn’t understand. Alfred noticed his mistake, turning his head and trying to wipe his tears away. 

He quickly went to the others side kneeling and turning the chair towards him in one quick movement. He moved the others hands to the side gently by his wrists, like curtains opening up onto the stage. He cradled Alfred's face with his hands, both on his cheeks, so they made eye contact.

“What is wrong?” Ivan asked again. The other just sniffled a little and blinked, causing tears to fall down his face. Ivan used his thumbs to tenderly wipe away the water under his eyes. 

“I-I’m sorry. It’s nothing,” Alfred answered silently, his voice breaking in between. He was trying to look anywhere but Ivan’s eyes. He was embarrassed for his behavior. 

“It is very important to me.” Ivan stated clearly, which got the others attention. 

Finally Alfred’s eyes were back on him. But he didn't say anything he just sniffled and stared, more tears falling. Which Ivan kept rubbing away, hopefully in a soothing manner. 

“.. Is something wrong with the country?” Ivan asked after a moment. He needed to find a way to help him, to stop this.

“No.”

“Is the cake bad? Did you not like how your birthday went?” 

“No. It’s not that. I-It’s just… It looks so good,” Alfred finally said. 

“Chto?… you mean the cake?” Ivan looked to the cake and back to Alfred. It looked just as delicious as when he got it out. But that was making Alfred cry? 

“Yes. Haha, the cake looks so good it’s making me tear up,” the other laughed. An answer Ivan didn’t believe for a second. But he wasn't going to push it. If Alfred didn’t want to tell him, he didn’t have to. 

“Ah, well. That is quite the compliment Fedya,” Ivan said getting up and going to the kitchen counter to grab a few tissues. 

He returned and used the tissues to dab at Alfred’s puffy eyes, and wipe away the wet trails on his soft cheeks. 

“Thanks,” he said quietly when Ivan finished. “And a normal sized piece is just fine,” Alfred took the tissues from Ivan and wiped his nose then pocketing them. Ivan went and grabbed the knife cutting two slices and putting them on the separate plates. 

“I know birthday cakes usually have candles to blow out, but I didn’t think the cake could hold so many candles,” Ivan teased, trying to break the silence. Alfred laughed at that comment, his normal facial features back to normal. Excluding the now dimming red of his eyes. 

“Are you calling me old? Your way older!” He reminded, taking a bite of the cake. Chewing is slowly, he was savoring it, unlike everything else he ate. “This is great Ivan!” Alfred declared before taking another bite. 

“I’m happy you think so,” Ivan hummed while eating his own cake. It was just as delicious as the first time he ate it when he was young. He remembered how he wanted to share the cake with everyone, so they could taste how sweet it was. It looked like he was still doing just that. 

They finished their cakes in silence, Alfred, even while eating slowly, finished first. 

“Thank you Ivan, I really mean it I had a great time today,” Alfred thanked. 

Before Ivan could reply there were arms wrapping lightly around him from the side. It was an odd way to embrace, he was about to turn to give Alfred a real hug. Then just as quick as it started it ended, the other left his side quickly. 

Alfred’s touch lingering on Ivan’s shoulders like a ghosts. He grabbed his plate and fork and put them in the sink and walked out, hands in his pockets face casted downward. 

Ivan was left alone in the kitchen. Left to his thoughts, which only made his body fill with worry more. Alfred was hiding something that was bothering him. Ivan would have to watch the news tomorrow morning to see if something in his country caused it. 

Right then there was nothing he could do. Ivan sighed, not really in the mood for his cake anymore; he put it back on the pan. Then he put the saran wrap over the cake, placing it back in fridge. He didn’t bother to hide it this time of course. He wished Alfred’s day didn’t come to an end so depressingly, but at least it wasn’t Ivan’s fault. 

At least he didn’t think so. He did everything perfectly and Alfred thanked him, so it must be something else. 

Ivan turned off all the lights and locked the doors before going upstairs. When he reached the hallway upstairs he could hear the faint sound of soft sobbing. 

Ivan silently walked over to Alfred’s bedroom door and put his ear to it. But the crying wasn't coming from in there. He turned and looked at the mysterious door he had never been through. The sniffling was coming from in there most definitely. 

Ivan walked closer and reached for the doorknob but he stopped himself. Alfred wanted to be alone, and no matter how much Ivan wanted to comfort him. Hold him and tell him it’s okay. If Alfred didn’t want that, Ivan wouldn’t force it on him. 

He backed away from the door, opening his own bedroom door slowly and went in. He didn’t close it though, he left it open a crack. 

A silent offer for Alfred to come in and talk, no matter the time, if he decided he wanted help. 

But Alfred never came that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear these chapters are getting longer and longer. But I will finish this story, even if it kills me!! And as always think for the lovely comments, they fuel me :D


	8. Hummingbirds

Ivan was watching the news intently this morning. It wasn't news about his country but of America’s. Just as the other said, everything was at peace. Well as peaceful as it gets with any country, which is never real peace, but something close to it. 

He was still on the mission of trying to find out what caused Alfred’s sudden outburst last night. What worried him most was the lack of communication from America, last time something bothered Alfred he talked with Ivan about it easily. But this time was different, he lied to cover up his distress. Leaving Ivan not understanding why, or what it could be. 

Ivan got up from the arm chair he was sitting in and taking his mug with him to refill it with coffee. Ivan had always been a tea person, but coffee was a need this morning. 

Last night he didn’t get any sleep, instead of staring at the back of his eyelids, like he should have been, he was watching the crack in the door. Watching and waiting for a shadow to appear in his door. 

For Alfred to come to him when he was ready, but Ivan fell asleep before America even left the mysterious room. When he awoke this morning, he found his door to be closed all the way and the hallway light turned off. 

Ivan poured the black coffee into his own mug. While he and Alfred were out shopping one day Ivan caught sight of a mug with a bunch of cute sunflowers on it. 

Alfred must have noticed Ivan staring at the mug; next thing he knew Alfred was grabbing it and placing it gently in the little basket without a word. 

Ivan smelt the aroma waft in his nose as he finished pouring the dark liquid to the brim and then adding sugar. Plenty of sugar, so the beverage wasn’t too unbearably bitter. 

It was his third cup already this morning, and Ivan was finally starting to feel the caffeine kick in. He returned to the living room to sit back down, but found his chair already taken.

Alfred was sitting in his spot, curled up with the red comforter wrapped around him. The man seemed exhausted, his eyes sunken and heavy. It looked like the other was about to fall asleep right there. 

“Good morning Alfred,” Ivan said handing his steaming cup of coffee to him, Alfred needed it more than Ivan. 

America looked up, a small smile on his face, arms squirming out of the blanket and wrapping his hands around the hot drink. Their fingers touching briefly in the pass off.

“G’mornin,” he yawned. “Thanks.” He quickly brought the steaming cup to his mouth. Not taking a sip yet but letting it rest under his upper lip for him to smell and let cool down. 

One of Ivan’s favorite parts of the day was the morning. The way the sun shined through his window beautifully, allowing him to see the sunrise in a blaze of colors. The quiet of the house as he walked through it. But it only got better when America woke up.

The way the other was so tired no matter how long he slept. How he always was wrapped in his blanket, taking the comfort of bed with him where he went. How his hair was an adorable mess. His glasses usually left on his bed side table until he actually got ready for the day, allowing Ivan to see those tired eyes without looking through glass. 

The way he only wore his boxers to bed, and came downstairs in the morning with only them and the blanket on. He remembered the first day Ivan came to live here and how Alfred looked that morning, how flustered he was when Ivan saw him. Now he walked around in his undergarments with no shame.

Ivan didn't have a problem with it. On the contrary he looked forward to it. The way he got a glimpse of that stomach and that back was worth paying for. It was excruciating for Ivan to look away, so as to not be noticed. 

Alfred’s back was muscular, littered with scars and of course the growing rash on his back. Ivan thought it bothered him more then Alfred, not because it was ugly to look at, but it worried him. 

Alfred’s stomach was less scared, and he was lean. But what Ivan loved most was that slight layer of fat that Alfred seemed to have in his stomach area. Instead of hard rigid abs he had a soft muscle indents in his stomach area. 

He knew Alfred was insecure when it came to his weight, sometimes he would try and cover it when he noticed Ivan staring. But Ivan assured him he was very handsome, which always made the other stutter. 

“Ya a’ight?” Alfred asked, looking up at Ivan. Ivan realized he had been staring at him this whole time, and flushed, turned around and sat down on the other couch.

“Da, im thinking of how you took my seat,” he quickly covered. Ivan watched from the corner of his eye as Alfred took a sip of Ivan’s coffee, cringing at the bitterness, but continued drinking it anyway. He placed it on the coffee table and laughed a little at Ivan’s comment.

“Sorry man. It was just too warm to give up,” Alfred said taking the blanket, that fell earlier to expose his chest, and pulling it back up to his shoulders. Closing his eyes and leaning more back into the cushion. 

“If you are still so exhausted why don't you go back to bed?” Ivan acknowledged. 

“I wish. But I have a whole shit load of paperwork to do before we leave for your place,” Alfred answered with his eyes still closed. They planned to leave for Russia in two days and Ivan was excited to finally show Alfred around his country's capital. 

“I told you not to procrastinate till the last minute,” Ivan huffed. He did warn Alfred, several times in fact, to get started on his paperwork. But he never did, at least until now, at the very last minute. 

“Yeah. Yeah. I know…” The assurance was followed by silence from both. Ivan was thinking about where he wanted to take Alfred when they got there. 

First Saint Basil’s Cathedral, the Kremlin, Red Square. Maybe Ivan could even get Alfred to go to the Bolshoi Theater, so they could watch a performance together. Ivan always went alone, envying everyone else who usually went with friends or partners. It would be nice to go with someone too. 

He was becoming so excited over just thinking about it. Of how they could enter together and sit next to each other. Close enough to be touching. They could whisper to one another before the ballet performance began. 

They could converse and walk together during the intermission. Then afterwards they could discuss their opinions of the show. Everything Ivan always dreamed of doing with someone. With a someone who wasn't scared they would say the wrong thing or make any type of mistake. 

“Hey Alfred when we go to my home country we should go to the Bolshoi,” Ivan suggested out loud. No reply answered him though. Ivan looked towards where Alfred sat, his eyes were still closed, but his breathing was more leveled and filled with less sighs. 

He had fallen asleep. Ivan really wanted to let the tired nation sleep but if he didn’t finish his paperwork they would have to change the flight date, and Ivan didn’t want to wait any longer. 

“Alfred,” He said loudly. Not even a flinch from the sleeping man. Ivan rose from where he sat and striding over with determination.

“Alfred. You have to wake up.” Ivan reminded, shaking his shoulder a bit. America eyes didn't even open, he just brushed Ivan off and pulled the blanket over his head. 

“I have some time,” the other mumbled.

“No you do not have time. If you did you wouldn’t have set your alarm so early this morning,” Ivan explained. Jabbing his finger at Alfred accusingly, hitting his stomach.

When Ivan poked Alfred what he didn’t expect is for the other under the blanket to shake a bit. And… Did Ivan hear a little giggle? Ivan’s smile grew, an amazing idea popping into his head. 

He poked his stomach again. The laughter growing in volume under the blanket. “What’s wrong Alfred?” Ivan teased. 

The side he had been attacking was trying to move away, so used his other hand to poke the side that was jutting out now. Making the other wiggle in surprise. 

Ivan continued tickling his sides until Alfred was full out guffawing. The blanket had fallen from his face and back to his lap, allowing him to see the face that was producing the adorable sounds that held the occasional snort in them as he tried to speak. 

“I can't understand you Fedya,” Ivan said with a smile. He knew exactly what the other was trying to say.

It also allowed him to get a better view of his stomach with Ivan's hands on it. Running up and down the ribs and stomach, poking more every now and then between ribs. 

“Hahaha! St-Stop, Iv-Hahan!” The other begged, his breathing coming in gasps between. Alfred was like a worm squirming to and fro, trying to get away, but he was cornered on the recliner with nowhere to run to. 

Suddenly Alfred’s arm shot out in a desperate attempt to make his attacker stop. Sadly both the victim and the attacker forgot about the preys amazing strength. 

The fist came crashing into the left side of Ivan’s face, forcing Ivan to stumble backwards. Both froze in shock. Ivan stared at Alfred who was staring right back, trying to process what just occurred. Once the sting of pain hit Ivan he realized what just occurred and put his hand to his left cheek.

“O-Oh man! I’m so sorry,” Alfred burst out. He got up from the couch swiftly, letting the blanket fall to the ground as he entered Ivan’s personal space. 

“Let me see,” he said, moving Ivan’s hand away from the now blooming bruise. With surprising tenderness from someone so freakishly strong, he caressed the left side of Ivan’s face, checking to make sure it wasn't bleeding or he didn't shatter the cheek bone. 

Ivan barely felt a thing when Alfred’s fingers skimmed over his wound. Instead he was focused on how close the others face was. He could see every detail when they were this close, every little freckle, every single long blonde eyelash. 

“Let’s get some ice for this,” Alfred exclaimed, dragging Ivan by his hand gently to the kitchen and sitting him down at the breakfast table. The early morning sun shined through the windows, lighting up the table and making the wood warmer. Ivan stared at one of the stains on the well worn table, he wondered how old the table was. 

Suddenly there was an ice cold pack on his cheek, which made Ivan turn his head abruptly. The little sting finally bringing him out of his thoughts.

“Oh, it’s okay! There is no need for that,” Ivan declared while trying to move away from cold bundle of cloth. But Alfred was persistent, he followed Ivan’s face when he moved.

“I’m so sorry. It was an accident! I didn’t mean for my hand to do that, it just happened. Oh man, you're gonna get such a bruise. I’m so sorry,” Alfred rambled. He had pulled the other wooden chair around to face Ivan. His face was contorted into apologies and worry. 

“Fedya, it is really fine. I have dealt with more than this, this is nothing,” Ivan assured. Trying to calm the others stress. His usual smirk he produced afterwards allowed another tinge of stinging to be recognized.

Alfred hit harder than a normal human that was for sure. Lucky for them both, nations heal quicker than normal humans. When it came to physical wounds they healed fast, but wounds related to their country could take years to heal if need be. This bruise would be gone by noon tomorrow.

“I know, but that’s all the more reason that it’s not okay. You have been been through enough,” Alfred declared expressionless. 

Ivan was shocked at the considerate words. No one had ever said or even considered mentioning his past to him. 

The thing that kept him awake at nights. Caused him to hide away the scars on his neck. It wasn’t something he just told anybody, it was extremely private. 

“How do you know?” Ivan questioned quietly. He didn’t get an answer though, instead Alfred just stayed silent. His face giving no clues as he removed the ice from Ivan’s face. Cringing and hissing at the, most likely, ugly blackened skin. 

“..You should punch me,” Alfred exclaimed abruptly. 

“...Chto?”

“Punch me. It’s only fair man,” Alfred moved his hands out to his side, exposing himself. “Come on, i’m wide open.”

“I-I’m not punching you Alfred,” Ivan argued, but also confused by the demand. He wasn’t angry, nor did he feel like he should get revenge. He wouldn’t punch him to make things “fair.” That would be silly.

“Please! I feel awful, this will make me feel better. Do it for me,” he continued ridiculously. 

“Nyet. I will do no such thing,” Ivan finished. The idea was not even in question. Alfred sighed moving his arms back to his side. 

“..Well, what can I do? I’ll do anything you want,” he asked. The guilt must have been killing him to offer to obey any demand Ivan asked for. Ivan wanted to ask to take a stroll through the park, but Alfred already had plans. He could figure something else out though easily.

“Hmmm, why don’t you get me some breakfast,” Ivan chuckled. Luckily he hadn’t eaten breakfast yet and earlier he was to lazy to make something, so this worked perfectly.

“Really? That’s it?” Alfred asked in disbelief. What was he expecting? For Ivan to ask to be treated like a king. 

That would be such a childish thing to do, not to mention it was kind of Ivan’s fault. He was the one who instigated the playful fight, he should have thought before he acted. He didn’t regret it though, the others face framed into his memory was well worth it.

“Da. That is it,” Ivan said watching with amusement at Alfred’s shocked expression. 

“Okie dokie! No problem.” The other quickly shot up, moving the chair back into place across from Ivan. He looked out the window, inspecting the side porch. Ivan realized he had never sat out there, the wicker swing with striped cushions looked so inviting too. 

The sun was all the way up now there were only a few white clouds scattered amongst the sea of sky blue. He could see the large tree’s leaves in front of Alfred’s house swaying in the wind. 

He couldn't hear the rustling from inside, but he could imagine how it sounded. He could clearly hear the outside in his mind, along with Alfred feet’s padding around the kitchen and the opening and closing of the fridge in the background. 

“You want to eat outside?” Alfred voice spoke up from behind him all of a sudden, while holding two plates. The plates held two large pieces of cake on them and two forks. 

“Cake for breakfast?” Ivan teased. Before he could grab the cake, America had one plate balanced between his body and elbow while he busied his right hand on unlocking and opening the side door. 

“Yup. The breakfast of champions.” Ivan snickered at the small joke. Alfred finally got the door open and then opened the screen door, holding it with his body to let Ivan through first.

“Let’s eat outside, it’s real nice out today,” Alfred suggested again. It was almost like he could read Ivan’s mind.

“Da, I agree,” Ivan walked through the door. The cool air of the house was very different from outside. It was much warmer outside, the air was pleasant but not too hot. A large breeze kept the air fresh and cool.

Ivan walked over to the cute swing meant for two and sat in it. He could clearly see the road from here and the house across the street. There was no car, so he doubted the owners were home. Alfred closed the door behind him and strided over to where Ivan sat, sitting next to him. Close enough to be touching all down their sides. 

“Here ya go,” Alfred said, handing the piece of cake over to Ivan. Which he took gratefully with a “spasibo.” They were both still in there sleepwear, which was embarrassing to be outdoors in. But the road Alfred lived on never had any traffic Ivan noticed, so he wasn't too worried. 

They sat in silence after that. Alfred swinging both of them with his feet while they ate. The tree was rustling just how Ivan imagined it would. The breeze ruffled Ivan’s hair, the wind also brought the sound of the capital's traffic with it. The atmosphere could be best described as calm. 

“Hey… I want to apologize for last night,” Alfred insisted. Ivan almost forgot about it in the calm of the moment. But there went the calm atmosphere, blown away just like the wind.

“I told you before, it is quite all right.” 

Alfred sighed at Ivan’s response, placing the white porcelain dish in his lap and resting his head on Ivan’s shoulder. Immediately Ivan tensed then forced himself to relax, he still wasn't used to all this voluntary physical interaction. 

“Mmmm,” Alfred hummed in disbelief. But he stayed where he laied. The sounds around them returning, this time Ivan’s brain wasn’t silent. It was filled back with the thoughts that plagued him the night before. 

“Can I ask a question?” Ivan asked. 

“..Shoot,” Alfred said. But he sounded hesitant, like he wanted to answer with a no. 

“What’s in that room across the hallway?” 

“...you mean the bathroom.” He was trying to avoid answering the question obviously. 

“Nyet, the other door,” Ivan corrected. He was watching a single dandelion flow in the grass when a strong breeze blew in. Even though it was considered a weed, Ivan thought it was cute, it looked lonely all by itself.

“Oh that room. I just have a bunch of old junk in there.”

“Old junk?” Ivan questioned, turning to look at America’s face but he could only see the top of his head and the tip of his nose.

“Yeah you know, like old stuff from the wars. I even got some stuff in there back from my colonial days,” Alfred explained. 

Ivan of course kept his old belongings too, he didn't have a lot of them though, but what he did own was displayed in his house. All the objects reminding him of the rare good memories he had, some from an even better time he couldn’t remember now. 

“Oh alright, I was just curious,” he explained. Ivan ended it there, his curiosity had subsided enough for now. But it was still bothering him, and most likely will continue to until he understands.

After a moment of them enjoying the outdoors. Ivan was able to catch a glimpse of a hummingbird drink from a red and yellow feeder that hung from the side of the house. It’s little wings were beating so fast Ivan could barely see them flap, then the small bird was gone as quick as it came. 

Ivan had never seen a hummingbird before, they were not native to the eastern hemisphere of the world. But apparently a common sight in the summer here in America. They were very astonishing creatures. 

“Ugh. I have to start working. If I sit here any longer I might just fall back asleep,” Alfred huffed. Groaning a little as he got up, stretching his back. “Alrighty, i’m going to go get started.”

“About time, don’t you think,” Ivan teased, finishing off his own cake. Turning and looking at the hummingbird feeder again as he chewed. He was hoping to catch another one. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Alfred breathed to himself, starting to whistle a tune before entering the door and closing it behind him. He could still hear the faint sound of whistling inside.

Ivan swung himself now with one foot on the ground, the other tucked under him. The humming bird never came back though sad to say. 

Ivan would have waited longer, content in the comfortable rocking swing. But it was becoming hotter and hotter as the sun rose higher. The middle of summer brought heat Ivan could barely handle.

He quickly got up, not wanting to get sunburned, and went inside. The eery silence of the indoors was very different to the constant sound of outside. 

He walked up the stairs and into his room, deciding on getting ready for the day. He took his morning shower, although today it would be correctly called an early afternoon shower. 

He was downstairs in only an half an hour and Ivan had no idea what to do with his time. He already finished his paperwork and sent it out to his boss three days ago, and he already packed most of his clothes for the flight that was day after next. 

Ivan already finished all the books he brought with him from home. He wondered around the old house, silently fixing things as he went. Brushing dust off some of the tables and shelves. 

While straightening some crooked pictures in the living room he saw himself in one of the frames. This caught him off guard, as Ivan wasn't in the picture frame before, he thought he remembered this one was of America and Vietnam on the battlefield together.

He remembered when Alfred took the picture of them about a month ago. Ivan was sitting on the couch reading one afternoon when America ran up to him, a black plastic camera in hand. 

“Hey Ivan, let’s take a picture together,” Alfred said suddenly. Catching Ivan off guard. 

“What?” Ivan asked looking up from his beloved book.

“You know where you take a cam-”

“I know what a picture is. I mean why do you want to take one?” Ivan clarified, cutting Alfred off.

“Oh, well cause I found the cheap portable camera from when I took Matt to Las Vegas,” he waved the camera around while talking. It was the kind anyone could buy at a simple store. “And I noticed I have one take left, so I figured let’s take one now,” Alfred explained.

He walked over to Ivan and sat right next to him, almost on top of him. The camera was raised in the air, to get both of their faces in the picture. 

Ivan swiftly covered his face with his hands, he wasn’t ready for a picture. His hair was probably messy from sitting on the couch for so long. That and Ivan didn’t really care for pictures, his nose always looked bigger in them, and his smiles always looked so forced.

“Dude come on, don’t be like that,” Alfred said trying to pry Ivan’s hand away from his face.

“Nyet. I do not want to take a picture,” Ivan said turning away. 

“Just a quick one, pleeeaaassseeee,” Alfred begged. Shaking Ivan’s shoulders weakly. But Ivan didn’t move. “Coooommmeee ooonnnn.”

“Nyet. Begging will make no difference,” Ivan assured quickly taking his book and covered it with his face for more cover.

“Literally one quick one, and if you don’t like it. I’ll throw it out,” the other bargained. 

Ivan thought about the others idea, there was no way Alfred was going to let this go. He figured this was his best way out. If there was one thing America was it would be determined.

“Okay,” he said after a very loud, prominent, sigh of annoyance for Alfred to hear. Which the other ignored.

“Great, say cheese,”Alfred said raising his camera.

“Wait. Cheese? I don’t understand?” Alfred groaned. The camera falling back down to his lap.

“Cheese,” Alfred said facing him. His face contorted into the weirdest grin Ivan had ever seen. If you could call it a grin, it more like he was just showing off his teeth.“See, that’s what you can say to make yourself smile before taking a picture,”

“That’s not a very convincing smile,” Ivan pointed out. He refused to do use that in the picture. 

“Yeah I know, it’s mostly just something people say,” Alfred explained, moving the camera back up and held it in place.

“...Are you smiling?” Alfred asked not taking the photo yet. 

Darn it, Ivan was found out. He planned on doing a straight face, that way Alfred would have to throw out the picture later on.

“Yes, take the picture,” Ivan lied. But America didn’t press down on the trigger.

“Ugh. Dude ya gotta smile…You look so very handsome when you do.” Alfred waited one more second before pressing the trigger.

Two months later here was Ivan looking at the framed picture. Alfred had his usual happy smile, and Ivan’s own smile looked actually genuine. 

The sly comment the other added in before taking the picture made Ivan smile softly at the nice words with a slight pink on his cheeks. He remembered Alfred bringing the picture home from the store and showing it to Ivan. Which to both of their surprises he approved. 

He sat down on the couch restless, he knew there would be nothing on T.V. There never really was, unless Alfred had a movie for them to watch. He looked to the side and found Alfred’s book on a table next to an empty coaster. 

He picked it up and looked at the cover. It read “The Great Gatsby.” Much to Ivan’s surprise earlier in his stay he found out Alfred read a decent amount. Not nearly as much as Ivan, but he read when there was nothing else for the other to do. Anything to do rather than his actual work.

Ivan thought Alfred looked extremely intelligent while reading a book though, his glasses would fall to the end of his nose, his legs would cross, and his eyes would flicker as they went from line to line. 

Before Ivan lived here he thought America to be a just a simple child in an adult’s body, a lot of other nations thought this too, he now knew that they were very wrong. 

Alfred had a lot more to him then everyone thought, he was kind, intelligent, and extremely thoughtful. Ivan felt honored to be one of the only people who were able to observe the real United States of America.

He told Ivan that this book was one of his favorites and persisted in calling it a classic. Ivan had never read the novel, but with nothing better to do he opened up to the first page. He preferred reading in Cyrillic, but he would have to do with english. 

As Ivan read the book, he found a lot of words he didn’t know. The language used was decently old, a lot of descriptive words Ivan had never heard before. But with the use of context clues he was able to figure some out. 

Others he was to embarrassed to ask Alfred about, and he didn’t know where a dictionary was located. Most likely in Alfred’s office, but he didn’t want to interrupt the other either. 

Ivan continued reading throughout the day late into the afternoon, the book was very good so far. Another thing that surprised him was the fact that it didn’t have anything to do with the younger's so called “heros,” well actually not true, people could argue that Mr. Gatsby was a hero. 

But it wasn’t the type of book he pictured the other reading at all. There were no super villains or people with superpowers fighting off the bad guys. 

It was full of symbolism, Ivan had to stop after a few chapters and piece it all together. It was very well written, Ivan was sucked into the story so quickly he easily passed Alfred’s bookmark. He would have finished the book if it wasn't for the loud music that suddenly filled the house. 

Ivan tried to keep reading with the loud modern music playing in the background, but it was becoming very distracting. He was also pretty sure it was becoming louder and louder by the minute.

It was on a radio station, he could tell because whenever the song ended there was a brief moment of enthusiastic talking followed by another song. He tried to keep reading but the loud singing overtook his mind.

Ivan rose from the chair, marking the page he left off on with an old envelope that was on the coffee table before leaving the room. He strided to the office door and knocked. Alfred didn’t answer. Ivan banged louder, but the music was so loud the other couldn’t hear him inside. 

Ivan opened the door and let himself in. The office was bright, there were no lamps on, but the two windows let in plenty of natural light. The sun highlighting the copious amounts of dust that floated around the room.

Instead of finding Alfred dutifully working away at his desk with a neat pile of papers set to the side, hopefully almost done. What he found was paper everywhere, in several messy piles on the desk and the sides of the room.

Then there was Alfred, moving his his hips back and forth as he danced to the upbeat music. Today was just full of surprises for Ivan. 

It seemed Alfred didn’t notice Ivan as he danced with his lower half his top half was leaning over his desk writing something down. Well at least he was still working.

Ivan smirked and stood there waiting for Alfred to notice him. The display was by far one of the best he had seen these past few months. His dancing was mesmerizing to watch, or was it just his lower half he liked so much, Ivan couldn’t tell.

As another song ended Alfred got up from his spot walking around to one of the many piles on the ground and placing his paper there. 

When he looked up he noticed Ivan standing there, with a large smirk on his face. Ivan laughed when he saw Alfred turning crimson. The other quickly went over to the old looking radio, turning it down so they could hear one another. 

“H-How long have you been standing there, big guy?” Alfred asked, caught off guard. 

“Long enough. You did not tell me you could dance,” Ivan teased. But in all reality he was complimenting him. 

Ivan only knew old ballroom dancing, which in this day in age wasn't very helpful. It was not very common anymore to see two people holding each other intimately and step in perfect coordination with the music. 

“Hahaha, I guess it never came up,” Alfred laughed off his embarrassment, seeming to embrace it. Dancing a little to the music as he went and grabbed another piece of paper from his desk. Making Ivan cackle even more at the display. 

“So what did you need?” Alfred wondered.

“I was going to ask you if you could turn the music down, which you have done. So i’ll take my lea-” Ivan was cut off.

“Wait, stay in here and talk to me. I’m getting so bored of doing this paperwork,” Alfred demanded. Ivan didn’t mind taking a break from his book. Walking and taking a seat in the office chair behind the desk Alfred wasn't sitting in. 

Ivan didn’t look down at the secret documents, maybe during the Cold War he might have. But now he respected America and his country’s secrets; it was none of his business. Ivan laughed as Alfred danced back over to the desk across from him, writing something down after reading it. 

“So what have you been up to?” Alfred asked. 

“Oh I have been reading your book, the Gatsby one,” Ivan explained.

“Shit dude, really! What do you think?” 

“I am enjoying it very much, a very excellent book like you said.”

“Told ya so,” Alfred exclaimed. Like Ivan spoke otherwise before hand. “What part are you at?” he asked.

“Mr. Gatsby and Nick are at Tom’s and Daisy’s home for dinner, there is another lady there… What’s her name.. Jackie? Baker”

“Oh, Jordan Baker. Yeah I don’t really like her. But shit’s about to hit the fan,” Alfred exclaimed. He obviously read the book more than once. Ivan didn’t understand the metaphor, but he didn’t question it.

“Lovely,” Ivan breathed. “Are you almost done with you work?” 

“Hah! I wish, I still got about a quarter of it left, so not too much, but still,” Alfred explained. 

“Well at least you're almost done now,” Ivan encouraged. The younger nation had done a lot today, an inhuman amount of work actually. 

“Yeah I’ve been slacking a whole bunch,” he explained finishing something and putting it on one pile, but moving it to the one next to it. 

Suddenly the song changed to something else, it wasn’t as fast tempoed as the last one, but not slow either, somewhere in the middle. 

“Oh! I love this song,” Alfred said gesturing for Ivan to come to him. Ivan looked at him quizzically, staying in his seat firmly until he knew what the other was asking.

“Dance with me,” Alfred whined, giving up on using gestures to convey what he wanted. 

“Nyet,” Ivan declared immediately. He didn’t know how to dance to this, and he wasn’t going to make a fool out of himself either. He could ballroom dance anyday, but not...this.

“I really need a break, and it’ll be fun,” Alfred persuaded. 

“Not for me,” Ivan stated firmly.

“... Is it because you don’t know how?” America asked, already catching onto Ivan’s dilemma. Ivan didn’t provide a reply, but his silence gave an answer anyway.

“Nothing wrong with that! Come on, i’ll show you,” Alfred coaxed, trying to get Ivan involved. He watched as the other kept waving him over, eventually America started doing something very humorous. 

He started waving one hand in the air, in a circular motion, proceeding to throw an invisible object in his direction. Then he pretended like he was pulling something in, that something being Ivan.

“What are you doing?” he questioned.

“I’m lassoing your pasty ass over here,” Alfred announced, continuing to pull the invisible rope. He was doing that western rope trick the country was known for during the late 1800s. “Come on work with me.”

Ivan laughed at the understanding of what the other was doing. He got up, deciding to humor the younger one, as soon as he rose from his chair America’s face brightened.

He walked over standing with his hands at his sides in front of Alfred, not sure of what to do. Alfred grabbed Ivan’s wrists and started moving them left and right to the beat, twice to the left then twice to the right, clapping them together every now and then.

“See, it’s not too hard,” Alfred broke in. 

Instead of holding his wrists Alfred snacked his hands upwards, making them hold hands as he kept doing the same movements. Then as the song entered its 3rd chorus Alfred guided their hands downwards to their midsections. Moving them back and forth at their sides along with the beat. 

They were dancing in a similar way children would. Alfred seemed to be enjoying his break as much as Ivan was, who wore a small smile to prove it. Occasionally he couldn't hold in the little chuckles Ivan tried to withhold, but when they did pop out it seemed to only motivate Alfred more.

“Alright, gonna have to move your feet for this one bud,” Alfred exclaimed deciding to change up the pace. 

They started moving around in a circle, Ivan had to follow the others directions since their hands were still attached. He didn’t mind though. Especially with the intoxicating image of Alfred’s joyful face focused with the background blurring around him into different parts of the room as they spun.

They went around three times before the song ended. Alfred hands leaving his own, which was a disappointment to Ivan, his hands feeling lonely and wanting to latch back on. The man on the radio started talking again in the background, about the most recent popular songs coming on soon.

“You’re a natural,” Alfred stated, giving Ivan a thumbs up. 

“That wasn't real dancing,” Ivan decided. He didn’t know how to dance, but he felt foolish doing that; there was no way he would dance like that in public. Yet it was still a delightful experience, no matter how ridiculous.

“It doesn't matter as long as you have fun,”the other countered with a huff. 

“Welp, I’ve had my fun. Better get back to work,” Alfred added. Walking back to where his desk was, turning down the music before sitting down. 

“Then thanks for the dancing lesson Alfred, i’ll keep it in mind next time,” Ivan chuckled. 

“Hahahaha! You better, i’ll be watching to make sure you use my wicked moves,” Alfred continued the joke while looking down and writing something out.

Ivan figured the other had decided to get back to work finally, the conversation ending. He decided on leaving America in peace.

Before he left he noticed an English dictionary in one of the many bookshelves. He quickly grabbed it, knowing Alfred wouldn’t mind, and walking back into the living room to sit down. 

Trying to fully understand what just happened. There was more to that short interaction than just friendly dancing.

His heart was beating, fluttering as quickly as a hummingbird's wings, Ivan was worried the organ might fall out. He was sure he had been blushing during the encounter, and he was nervous, yet he had never been so comfortable with someone. 

Ivan knew he had fallen for Alfred a long time ago, once he realized his behavior, this moment only strengthening his desire even more. 

He didn’t understand it. Ivan had never felt romantically towards someone, ever. Sure he had sex before, but he didn’t love any of those people. America was different, Ivan adored him and his feeling only grew everyday. 

But what if Alfred didn't like him back? What if Ivan professing his feelings ruined the one platonic relationship he ever had? He couldn't go back to being alone now, once he got a taste Ivan was hooked. No, he wouldn’t risk it.

These past few months, Ivan had enjoyed himself more than he ever had in the past century. And Ivan couldn't wait for more to come, all he could do was hope to provide the same amount of enjoyment he felt when they went to Russia.

Ivan tried ignoring another subject of thoughts that plagued his already crowded mind. Instead he picked back up the hard cover book he had been reading, finding the last word he didn’t understand the meaning to. 

The word was corroborate, the meaning being the act of giving or representing evidence of the truth of something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter wasn't originally planned, but I wanted a little more fluff. You can never have to much right. That and everything's going to escalate real soon.


	9. Take me away again?

The long plane ride back to Russia so far had been very smooth. No bumps or turbulence, and there was only the occasional crying of a toddler, not an infant luckily. 

Babies were of course adorable, and the clothes they wore were always the cutest. But the crying could get very loud and very irritating, especially in a plane. 

Ivan was currently reading “To Kill a Mockingbird,” as per Alfred’s request. Another book that was very famous in America. He finished “The Great Gatsby,” two days ago before he went to bed that night. 

The book was very good, but the story angered him. How Daisy just left Gatsby, after all he did for her. Alfred agreed with Ivan wholeheartedly, having the same problem, and was happy someone read it and could rant with him. 

Ivan asked if the other had any other books to read, which Alfred answered by running into his office coming back with a thicker book that had a bird on the cover. Exclaiming that it was just as good as the last one.

Which was what Ivan was reading now, he was a quarter of the way through already. He didn’t get farther than that though, since he had to help Alfred get ready to go yesterday. 

So far he thought the book was very interesting, and very… American. He was actually learning a lot about the southern culture in the early 1900s from the book. 

He thought it was just cowboys, guns, and herding cattle in the desert. Apparently that was wrong and very out of date from what Alfred explained. 

Speaking of the American, the other was currently leaning against Ivan’s shoulder as he napped on the 9 hour flight. It was amazing how a trip that would have taken months on a boat only a century ago turned into a simple few hour trip. 

America had insisted that Ivan took the window seat, stating he didn’t care either way and that he would sleep the whole way. Ivan thought that was nice, because there would have been no way he could have slept with so many people around. 

The light from the window also lit up the pages on the book rather nicely, and it made his hands warmer from staying in the natural heat. 

Alfred woke by himself, turning his face more into Ivan’s sweater, not ready to wake up yet. 

But after a big breath and yawn he was sitting straight up. “How much longer?” Alfred asked, looking across Ivan and out the plane's window. Nothing but clouds could be seen.  
“Not much longer, the captain said we are going to land in about another 20 minutes,” Ivan explained. Marking the page in his book before closing it.

“Really? Sweet.” America was just as much tired of this plane ride as Ivan was. Earlier Alfred was reading “Мёртвые ду́ши” (Dead souls), one of Ivan’s favorite books that he let him borrow. 

At first Alfred didn’t want to read it, put off by the very creepy title. But Ivan explained to him that it was actually about the corruption in government and the such, and not about the paranormal.

After the plane touched down they were easily able grab their belongings from the baggage line quickly. Nothing was lost which was even better. 

“How far away is your place?” Alfred asked as they started exiting the very packed airport. Ivan leading them them out. Creating a path for the both of them through the crowds of people. 

“Not far. But I think we should take a taxi,” Ivan explained. He just wanted to get home now, a walk sounded nice but maybe for another day. He called a cleaning surface to clean his home a few months ago while he was in America. 

Usually Ivan would be against anybody but himself cleaning his own messes, he was an adult. But if he remembered correctly the house was a huge mess when he left it. 

There was still old vodka bottles on the ground when he left, and he didn't even enter any of the rooms his old allies used when they lived with him.

He didn’t want Alfred to enter the large house and find it a wreck and think Ivan was a slob. Just the thought scared him.

“Oh okay,” Alfred said as they finally got through the exit doors. He was looking around, seeming entranced as they entered the outside. 

The weather was nice, much better than America for Ivan, it was less humid but still warm. A comfortable temperature. The sun was out still as it was only late afternoon, it would be dark in only a few hours.

Ivan wasn’t sure what he could do for food. He didn’t have anything at his home in the refrigerator, they would have to deal with something from the pantry. Or they could go out to eat tonight. He would have to ask Alfred when they got to the house what he wanted to do. He was the guest now after all. 

Ivan walked to the road and waved down one of the many taxi’s that stayed in the airport area. One quickly pulled up to them, eager to get a paying customer. 

“Wow that was quick,” Alfred stated. Walking behind Ivan as he opened the trunk and put their bags in the back. Ivan took Alfred’s bags from his hands, placing them next to his own. 

They both got in the back of the yellow car, Alfred reaching the backseat first. An older gentleman with a pronounced mustache sat in the front, lucky for them it didn’t smell like smoke in the cab. 

Both were trying to get out of smoking, seeing as it destroyed your lungs and all. It was normal for so long, and if he remembered correctly, Alfred used to smoke like a chimney, Ivan only on occasion when he was by himself. 

The smokey smell would definitely try to lure them both back into what they were trying to escape for so long. Even though they couldn’t really be harmed by it, it still gave off a bad image if they were caught smoking.

 _“Where are you men heading?”_ The elderly man asked Alfred in russian. He finished the sentence just as Ivan got inside. Alfred looked confused, he could only read Cyrillic, not speak russian, as the other had explained before. Ivan answered for them naturally. 

_”1341 Dmitrovskoye Highway,”_ Ivan answered quickly. His home was a little ways out of town but not very far at all. The reason he wasn’t closer was because he liked a little yard space between his home and the neighbors, that was all. 

The cab driver nodded, turning back to the steering wheel and starting to drive. Once they got off the highway and entered the city Alfred, who was staring out the window. It was like he had never seen Ivan’s capital before with how infatuated he looked, like a child at a candy store.

“You have been to my capital before Alfred,” Ivan reminded. 

“Only for the world meetings, and i’m usually too busy talking with someone to actually look around,” Alfred explained. Watching as the car drove slowly and stopped constantly in the city traffic. 

People were bustling about as usual, even more so than Washington D.C. Unlike in the United States where where D.C was not the populated city, Ivan’s capital was, as were most other countries capital cities.

“Don’t worry i’ll make sure we see the city,” he affirmed. 

“I better, i’m looking forward to it.” Ivan was set on returning Alfred’s favor of showing him around Washington. 

The yellow taxi they sat in drove through the city quickly, compared to other cars. Getting to another side of Moscow, avoiding the main part of the city to get out of most of the traffic. 

The drive was about 30 minutes which was decent for this time of day, it was time when people started driving home from work so the roads were usually always packed at this time. 

The taxi stopped at the long driveway, the house had a large sleek black metal fence around the yard, the gate was open though. There was a time when it had to stay closed, but not anymore for obvious reasons. 

“Dude, this is your house! No way,” Alfred burst out. Quickly trying to open the car door, it was locked so the first time it wouldn’t open, after the second try it opened. 

The driver turned around telling Ivan the amount due. Which Ivan payed in full, even though the pay was ridiculous. The amount of money for a taxi service was becoming ridiculous as the years passed. 

Ivan exited the car as well, taking in the familiar fresh air around his home. They could see the houses roof from here. The back pointed tops resembled a fairy tale castle, the many trees in his yard blocked the rest of the house from view, but a short walk to the front door would fix that.

Ivan opened the trunk, Alfred coming up next to him and grabbing his own belongings, a plain navy blue suitcase and a shoulder bag that had the american flag printed on it. 

If anybody in the airport wondered where Alfred was from, they could easily figure it out. Ivan waved to the taxi man as he started down the road in a friendly manner, following the other who was already making his way up the brick driveway. Ivan catched up to Alfred walking along side him. 

“Why didn’t you tell me your place was so big?!” the other asked. Turning to Ivan with an excited face. 

“I did not think it would be an important detail.” Ivan was ecstatic Alfred was already liking his home, his trip to Russia. Looking good so far.

He didn’t think his home was anything special, he liked Alfred’s home more to be honest. The little cottage style home was small, cozy, and comfortable. Ivan’s home was the exact opposite of Alfred’s. It was big, cold, and lonely. Even when people were living in his home with him he was still very lonesome. 

As they walked up the driveway, the house came into view. It looked just as he left it, except the yard had been caken care of, the lawn was mowed and the hedges trimmed. 

The house was 2 stories and very wide, with a dark roof and yellowish-cream colored front, along with white detailing. All the windows in his home were clean and the curtains were open so they could see inside, it looked as elegant as Ivan hoped it would. 

The columns gave the house an old look, but also extremely wealthy. The large gardens, now well maintained, was also a good way to spend time. Anyone would be a fool to not live here, he never understood why the nations he allied with during the soviet union didn’t enjoy their stay. 

They reached the front door, Alfred looking like he was vibrating with excitement. He took out his key and was about to put it in the lock, but before he could the door was opened by someone on the other side. Someone had been inside his house, waiting for him to return.

There in the the large arch doorway stood his lovely little sister, Belarus. 

“Brother!” She quickly jumped on him, giving him a large hug that almost knocked Ivan off his feet. A whole breath of air was escaped when she tackled him though. His eyes were wide and he was forgetting to breath during the embrace. 

“P-Privyet, Natalya. W-What are you doing here?” Ivan wondered, trying to hide his fear. 

If his younger sister found out he was frightened of her again, after he assured her last time he wasn’t, well, he didn’t want to sit through another session of her crying and him trying to comfort her.

“I think you mean, what is _he_ doing here?” Natalya hissed. Looking at Alfred as she turned from her brother’s chest. Alfred looked uncomfortable, he wasn’t scared, but looked untrusting. But who ever trusted Belarus.

“He is a guest here.. Just as you are,” Ivan added that last part in to keep the lion attached to his chest at bay. A smart move.

“Why are you here?!” Belarus asked the real guest. Moving from Ivan’s chest and pointing an accusing finger at Alfred’s. 

“I was invited, were you?” Alfred accused. His puffed his chest out more, looking taller and bigger than what he really was. Ivan watched on carefully, ready to stop Natalya from stabbing Alfred with one of the many knifes concealed in her beautiful blue dress. 

But to his surprise they just stared at each other. Their faces strong and gazes unwavering, like they were having an intense silent conversation. Whatever was happening Ivan felt uncomfortable just watching them clueless. 

“What do I owe the pleasure of your visit, sestra?” Ivan cut in, wording it nicer this time around. She quickly whipped back around to her brother.

“I was waiting for you to get home for weeks, dearest. I have made dinner, like a good wife,” she announced. 

“That is great. We are both so very hungry,” Ivan started to walk into the house. Once they ate dinner and talked for bit hopefully she would return home, seeing as Ivan was alright and back in his own country. 

Or he and Alfred could just hide until she gave up and left. The latter seemed more appealing. Ivan loved his sister, but she could be too overwhelming.

“Yeah thanks,” Alfred said in his usual chipper tone. Like nothing just happened between the two. He was following Ivan through the door, but before he could pass through the doorway he was blocked.

“Only brother. You get nothing,” she asserted. Alfred was about to yell something at her, but Ivan beat him to it.

“Sestra, that is very impolite! He is my guest, and as such he will be dining with us,” Ivan explained. Putting his hands on her shoulders and gently guiding her to the side. She wouldn’t budge though. 

“No. I will not have this filthy, food stuffing, idiot defile this house.” Alfred’s gaze wavered a bit then, like he was hurt by the comment. Now that crossed a line, insulting Alfred like that.

“Natalya, I want you to apologize. He is my friend, and you can not talk to him that way,” Ivan claimed with a hint of venom in his voice.

“I will do no such thing. I will not take back what is the truth,” she argued. Ivan knew how sensitive Alfred really was, especially with his weight. Belarus’s comment was hitting an already sore spot in Alfred self esteem, he didn’t need that. She needed to apologize.

“Natalya. Listen to me, you can not jus-” Ivan was cut off by the other finally speaking up. He was picking up his luggage again from where they were resting by his feet. 

“It’s okay, Ivan,” America chimed in suddenly. “I don’t want to get between family.” Ivan rushed forward, grabbing his friend's hand before he could turn and depart. 

America was going to leave, just as they got here, because his sister was being a child and didn’t want him here. “Nyet, you can stay-” 

“He can not!” she interrupted. Why couldn’t Ivan just finish his sentences today.

“Don’t worry big guy, it’s all right. I’ll just go somewhere until she leaves, okay?” Alfred whispered, trying to calm Ivan’s obvious nerves. He thought Alfred was going to go all the way back to the U.S.A. for a moment. But that would be ridiculous, it would be difficult to get a plane seat right away. 

That and he, of course, didn’t want Alfred to leave right away. Before he could deny the others plan, Alfred squeezed Ivan's hand once more then turned and started walking down the driveway. 

Waving at them both as he left, his suitcase rolled loudly on the concrete. The other bag sat on his shoulder, bumping against his hip as he walked.

“Good riddance,” Belarus huffed then gestured for Ivan to enter his home once again. 

“Come in brother, dinner awaits.” Ivan only watched, worrying, as Alfred turned the corner and disappeared behind the hedges that hid his home from passersby.

“Come, brother.” She said more forcefully as she noticed Ivan staring. Oh how he wanted to just chase after America and leave his sister behind. 

But she would never let that happen, rather attacking him than letting him go. They had a love-hate sibling relationship.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t be grumpy about it. Ivan walked through the door, finally entering his house. It looked a lot less inviting all of a sudden. His feet automatically led him to the dining room, the one he hasn't sat at in years. 

He took a seat where there was already a plate set out for him and another spot for his younger sister. He sat down and waited for his food to be served, not saying a word. 

As soon as this was over the sooner Natalya would leave, he loved his sister but sometimes she was just… too much. 

She came into the dining room with a bowl of steaming soup in her hands. Placing the bowl on the dark cherry wood of his dining table. 

She hummed a tune as she poured some sort of something in his bowl. Ivan wasn't paying attention to what he was being served, he was too busy thinking of how he as going to ask his sister when she would be leaving. She usually couldn’t stay long, they all had work. 

Her boss knew how she was with Ivan and would ask for her to return immediately, he probably was, and she was just ignoring him. 

Ivan felt guilty, Alfred was most likely walking back to the main part of Moscow, hungry and tired, and it would be dark soon. 

Since they were miles out Alfred wouldn’t get back until the moon was out.The thought stressed him out even more. 

There goes his chance at hospitality for the first night, but he figured one would think that it is fair, since Ivan had a bad time those first few hours at Alfred’s home too. 

“Are you hungry for something else?” Belarus asked, noticing Ivan wasn’t eating. She was really trying, making dinner for them both every night until he came home, offering to make another food for dinner. She would make a good wife to any partner, just not for Ivan.

“Nyet, this is fine,” he forced himself to take a bite. The guilt inside of him growing as his stomach was slowly filled with every bite. After a few bites he realized he was eating kuryniy soup, a type of chicken soup from his own country.

Maybe he could find a way to leave and go after America, but she would never let him leave again. He could say he was sick and she would have to go, but then she would want to stay and take care of him. Or she would find out he was lying and kill him. 

Ivan looked out the window and saw it was already dark, and his dish was almost gone. He took a look at the watch on his wrist but realized it was 7 hours ahead, he hadn't had the chance to change it yet. 

He looked around his house looking for one of the many clocks he owned. He made sure to keep the interior as elegant looking as the front of the house. 

The house was filled from room to room with expensive victorian style furniture. His aboud was old looking no doubt, but Ivan thought it had an air of elegance in it, it was what he was going for when designing it. 

“Sestra.. What time are you planning on going home?” Ivan asked tentatively. He didn't make eye contact, instead he favored staring at the little soup he had left in his bowl. Aimlessly moving it from side to side with his silver spoon. 

“So you can have that fat American here?!” She seethed, knowing exactly what her brother was thinking. “Why is he here anyway?”

“Our leaders have made an agreement, to allow tensions to ease between our countries.”

“You think I believe that! Who’s idea was it, his?” She yelled, her hands slamming down on the table loudly, causing Ivan to jump where he sat. His bowl of soup almost going flying. 

“It is true. Our bosses set it up in the beg-” He was cut off by more yelling.

“He tempted you! What did he say?!” 

“N-Nothing sister. He never said anything,” Ivan argued, trying to calm her down.

“Lies! I won’t let him take you away again,” She got up then, her own bowl scattering to the ground. Some left over broth spilling onto the expensive maroon carpet. 

“Sister, please calm down. He’s is not taking me away, I am right here,” Ivan exclaimed, getting up himself. He needed to calm her down, if he didn’t he feared for Alfred’s life. Even when he was miles away by now, she would hunt him down at this rate. 

“I only asked how long you will be staying. I am sure your leader is not thrilled with you being here,” he said, patting her back several times. She was like an angry cat, and he was the owner, desperately trying to calm his animal companion. 

Belarus swiftly turned and hugged her brother. Ivan tensed up immediately, she was too close for comfort. Which only made her hug tighter, forcing him to loosen up. 

“..I’m sorry my love, but I must take my leave tomorrow. I have business to attend in my home that I have been putting off, I couldn’t work with how much I worry,” she explained. Ivan felt sudden relief, she was leaving tomorrow, so he could go find Alfred tomorrow!

Ivan looked around, finally finding a clock with the correct amount of time on it. Already 9:40, late enough to go to bed. He forgot how quick it got dark in Russia during the summer.

“Well i’m very tired Natalya. I think I shall go to bed early.” He said lightly, pushing her off of him gently. The sooner he went to bed, the sooner the next day came, which meant safety at last. 

“Oh alright, you must be tired from the flight. Let me escort you to bed.”

“I can make it myself, Natalya.” He left her then, knowing she would most likely clean up dinner, including the mess she made of her bowl, and get ready for bed herself. Or watch Ivan sleep, sometimes she did that and it frightened him so much. 

Before he could go upstairs he grabbed his bags from where they sat by the front door. He made his way to the bedroom, not bothering with the lights in the hallways on the way. 

He reached his door, all they way at the end of one of the many hallways in the second story of the house, and it opened with a familiar creak. Once he entered and switched on the light, he found his room looking pristine. Much better than how he left it.

Ivan placed his belongings by one of his many dressers. He quickly changed into some of his more comfortable clothes and climbed into his very cold bed, he just wanted this stressful day to be over. The rich satin sheets were so soft and comfortable, but in a way he missed the ones back in America. He missed his room back at Alfred's house.

Back in America the sheets were just a simple cotton, yet they were the most comfortable thing he ever slept in. This bed was made for comfort, but it did not provide it. 

It only reminded him of the nights he spent staring at the ceiling, hoping for sleep that would never come. Shaking in fear of the past that felt like the present while visiting his dreams. 

Tonight he was exhausted, not to mention the jet lag he had, so it wasn’t hard to get into a relaxed state where he could sleep.

As Ivan was starting to fall into slumber finally, his door creaked open loudly. He quickly shot up looking at the light coming from the hallway. The silhouette of the person was, of course, his sister, not of who he hoped for. She was wearing her nightgown, and the normal bow in her hair was missing.

Natalya patted over and layed down, even though Ivan was right in the middle of his bed, so she only managed a sliver of the bed. Ivan had to scoot over for her as she forced her way onto the mattress and pulled the dark red sheets around herself. 

She tended to do this some nights, whenever she missed him she would sleep in his bed with him. He didn’t mind when they were younger, but after he realized her intentions of marrying him, it started to become uncomfortable. 

Back then she didn't scare him but now it was different, the women was terrifying. Ivan was positive she just watched him breathe when she laid there, not sleeping herself.

She was always up first and when he tried to escape to another room she would pull him back down. 

She shuffled closer snuggling against Ivan’s back. The action reminded him of that one night Alfred slept with him, and while he was sleeping crept closer to him as well. He didn’t understand why, Ivan wasn’t that warm. 

Ivan wasn’t frightened of Alfred’s action when he awoke, unlike his sister. The heat on his back and the one arm slung over his waist felt natural. Oh how Ivan wanted to turn around that early morning and embrace the other right then, take in that beautiful face and try to remember every detail. But he remembered that Alfred needed his rest and decided he did not want to wake him. 

Speaking of his dear friend, what his younger sister yelled stuck with him. ‘I won’t let him take you again?’ What did she mean ‘again?’ He has never been taken from her by Alfred, they were too busy fighting for the past 60 years, and before then they never talked. 

He only remembered knowing of America and first meeting him during WW2. Their first interaction was confusing for Ivan, how the American was so caring to someone he had never met. 

He was walking into the a conference for WW2, it was taking place in England that first time. Well first time for him, his new, very controlling, leader had never let him go to the other meetings before. 

Once he entered he found a table and a large chalkboard in the background, a man with blonde hair was drawing pictures on it. 

“Privyet,” he said while taking a seat. Besides England there was France also at the table, it seemed they were in the middle of talking when he entered, cutting them off. He would normally apologize but Mr. Lenin said Ivan needed to be more aggressive. He said many other things too. 

“Good morning, Russia. How are you?” France chimed in,England walking back over and taking a seat next to his neighboring country. For two people who always fought, they sure were close. 

“I am well,” he stated. It would be polite to return the question, but as Lenin told him. He was above them and shouldn’t care for other countries well being. 

He opened up his notebook, for the notes he would take during the conference. He could feel the two European countries eyes bearing into him, but he gave them no mind. Nobody spoke after that, instead they favored waiting in silence for the other members of the allies. 

Eventually the large door opened again. “Sorry i’m la-” A light voice said entering the room and closing the door behind him. But when he looked at Russia he cut off, his eyes were wide and his mouth hanging open mid sentence. 

“Ivan! Where have you been!? I mailed you, and even went to your country but they wouldn’t let me in!” A blonde man exclaimed loudly, jogging up to him and embracing his side tightly. Ivan had no idea what was going on. “I was so worried after I heard what happened.”

“I- I think you have confused me for someone else,” Ivan advised while trying to force the others hands off of him. The nation had a metal grip though. “What are you talking about? I would know you anywhere.”

“I am afraid I do not know who you are,” he explained. It was becoming hard to breathe now with how tight this hug was becoming. But finally it loosened up, and he could see the other's face clearly. 

He had the most stunning blue eyes, the blue that so resembled the walls of his home. The color of paint just spoke to him as soon as he caught sight of it while he was searching for the right color. 

His tan skin was so very different from Ivan’s pale tone. His hair was so much prettier than his too, he could not deny the man was beautiful. 

“What are you talking about!? We have known each other si-” 

“America, can we talk in private?” England said cutting the other off. 

So this was America, he was very big for a country so young. He had heard of the country from his leader, and how he said they were corrupt. He stated that Ivan shouldn’t be affiliated with him, or any other countries for that matter. 

He only let him come to this world meeting because they really needed to know what was going on with this war now that they were a big part of it. 

America was lead out by England by his arm. Almost like he was dragging the other away. Ivan turned back to his notebook, casually tapping his pen against the table. 

He was confused with the interaction, but he figured America thought he was someone else. Well he did say Ivan… Maybe there was another Ivan somewhere. He wasn’t sure but he didn’t bother himself with it. Not soon after America and England came walking through the door, China walking behind him. 

“Everyone is here so let’s call this meeting to order,” England announced, taking a seat once again. China and America following his example.

Ivan couldn’t help but to glance at the western country and take in the others expression, the American looked forlorn and pensive all at the same time. 

The meeting continued throughout the day, the others talked mostly, Ivan included who put in his own opinions. But never America, he stayed silent the whole meeting. For some reason this attitude didn’t fit him and put Ivan on edge.

The next day of the series of meetings, America acted exactly as Ivan expected him to now. Ivan laid in bed, his sister still present by his side. He hadn’t given their first interaction much thought after that, but know that it was on his mind he realized how odd it was. 

He decided that it must have been a prank, that sounded correct since there was no other Ivans. It was something Alfred would have pulled their first meeting, he almost laughed at how much he was fretting about it now. 

Much to Ivan’s surprise he was able to get to sleep, after only a few hours of thinking of the past and worrying with his sister next to him. 

 

When morning arrived he found his sister gone just as he expected. She was most likely packing for her trip, Ivan quickly got ready himself. Taking a quick shower and getting ready for the day. He decided he would drive Natalya to the airport and on his way back he could search for Alfred. He was somewhere in the city, he would start with the nearest hotels.

When he got downstairs he found his sister making breakfast. “Good morning brother. I have made you breakfast,” she explained.

“Thank you,” Ivan sat down. He wasn’t hungry but if he denied her offer he feared he she might try and force feed him, he learned from experience after all. 

He sat down and ate his breakfast, as she went upstairs to get ready herself. She explained earlier that her flight was an earlier one, as her boss needed her back as soon as possible, and that he was furious. This did not frighten her of course.

In the end Ivan was able to get both of them out of the house and into his car by 10, his sister's flight left at 11:30, so everything was working out so far. He managed to get her out of the car at the airport at a decent time, after giving her a goodbye kiss on the cheek. She refused to get out of the car without one. 

Once she was out of the car and walked into the airport Ivan stepped on the gas, driving away as quickly as possible. His small, older, car glided through the crowded traffic easily. He was in a hurry to get back to the other end of the city so he often cut people off. 

It was a nice day today, the sun was out and there was only a few clouds. The perfect day to sightsee, which would have been in his original plan. 

He made it to the nearest hotel and parked in the lot towards the front, this hotel is the first one Alfred would have reached when he walked back. He made it to the front desk and asked in his native language if a man by the name Alfred Jones was here. But to his surprise, he got a no in return. Alfred wasn’t here.

He thanked the lady in the the front desk and walked back to his car. That was the first place he had to check. He must have stayed in another hotel; so Ivan traveled to the next closest hotel. He wasn’t at the next one, or the one after that. Alfred wasn’t staying in any of them, and Ivan was starting to panic. 

He should have been at one of those. Did he go home? Ivan doubted that, he told him he would stay and wait till Belarus left. All the hotels weren’t booked either, he checked with them. 

Ivan started paying attention to the back alleys as he drove around town, his brain had managed the random thought that maybe Alfred had been attacked in the night when he entered town. The image of his best friend hurt by his citizens, bruised and bloody, didn’t help Ivan’s old heart. 

It beating like a hummingbird's again, not in a good way this time though. It helped that he knew Alfred was strong, but what if there was more than one person he couldn’t have fought them all off by himself. 

He searched for that head of hair that was so recognizable among the busy sidewalks, but the golden blonde never showed up in his line of sight. 

After hours of searching, the beautiful day being wasted away. He started home, watching the sides of the road to make sure Alfred didn’t get accidentally run over on his way back to the city and left for dead. The others smaller body didn’t show up on the side of the road, thank god. 

He pulled into his driveway again, after searching the whole eastern part of Moscow Ivan was sick of driving. He got to his front door but found it unlocked, he was sure he locked it before he left. 

“Alfred?” He yelled once entering the house, hoping that the other was here. If he wasn’t Ivan’s next step was to call the hospital. Lucky for him his house was filled with another voice besides his own.

“Is she gone?” Alfred’s voice yelled from somewhere in the house, hiding just in case his sister was still here.

“Da,” Ivan exclaimed, followed by a long sigh of relief. 

“Where were you?” he asked, navigation his way up his large spiral staircase. He heard the others voice come from upstairs.  
“I have been here! Where were you?” Alfred yelled back, finally coming out of one of the many bedrooms and into view. “I have been waiting forever!”

Ivan felt his feet become lighter once he saw America, walking quicker and going to hug him. But he stopped himself, Alfred may not want a hug. 

But suddenly hands splayed across his back, and Alfred’s hair was pushed into his face. The comforting scent wafting into Ivan’s nose. He quickly returned the gesture. Realizing this was the first hug he ever received from Alfred that he was able to fully reciprocate. 

The hug lasted longer than either expected, or any normal friends would do. But neither mentioned that, nor cared. Ivan looked at the hair and noticed a small leaf in Alfred’s hair. He removed his hand, Alfred giving a few awkward pats signaling the end.

“What is this?” Ivan asked retrieving the leaf and a small branch attached to it from the silky like locks. “Why are there leaves in your hair?” Ivan asked. Know that Ivan got a good look at Alfred, he was very messy.

His hair was astray there was a smudge of dirt on the side of his cheek, and he wore the same clothes he had on yesterday. Except they were covered grass stains and dirt. 

“Oh! Well, after your sister made me leave. I pretended to leave your house. But really I was hiding near by,” Alfred explained.

“Why didn’t you go to a hotel?” 

“I know how your sister is, you think I was going to really leave you by yourself,” the other argued while started dusting the dirt off Alfred’s clothes, and rubbed the smudge from his cheek. 

“So I stayed on the property, and hid in the bushes. It’s kinda where I slept too. So i’m a huge mess,” Alfred explained, laughing off Ivan’s worry.

“You did not have to do that for me,” Ivan blurted, shocked the other cared about him so. So much he slept outside, hiding in the bushes. 

“Yeah I know, but I did. And now i’m starving! Why don’t we have an early dinner,” Alfred suggested. 

“Da, then I can give you an official tour of my home.” Ivan grabbed another small twig from his hair. 

“But first I want you to shower,” Ivan interjected. He was sure Alfred was hungry, but he wasn't going to let the other run around leaving dirt everywhere. 

“That’s fair. I probably look awful! Okay, let me go grab my stuff from outside.” Ivan watched as the other ran down the marble stairs, the door slamming shut behind him as he went outside. 

Ivan looked towards the one door that was open in the long hallway, the one Alfred had been hiding in. He went through the white door, it not even giving a squeak, as the room had hardly been used. 

He couldn’t remember which person lived here, or if anybody stayed here actually. The bedroom was crisp and clean as ever. Two white doors were on one wall, one led to the bathroom the other a closet. The closet door was open, most likely where Alfred had been hiding, in case Belarus was there and she tried looking for him after he called out for Ivan. 

The room had a brightness to it. With light tones of blue and cream, the center held a four poster bed that had a curtain around it. The sheets were white, and a simple sky blue duvet was folded at the end. Two dark wood dressers were around the room. There was also one end table, he could already imagine Alfred setting his glasses down there before going to sleep. 

One wider and the other taller, the wider held an oval mirror above it. The room had two windows, the afternoon light shining through it and lighting up the room nicely. 

The hardwood ground was covered mostly by a large beige circular rug, the old print on the bottom was of intricate designs of flowers and leaves in a simple grey undertone. 

The room was simple, but elegant and comfortable. It seemed like the perfect room for Alfred, it would never be as homey as Alfred’s room was. But this would have to do. Ivan also liked that it wasn't too far from his own room, which was only at the end of the same hallway, a few doors down. 

Ivan walked back out of the room, finding Alfred struggling with balancing his suitcase and his bag while bringing them up the stairs. He quickly walked over and picked up Alfred’s own suitcase, carrying it with his hands the rest of the way of the way up.

“Thanks,” Alfred said. Moving his other bag from where it had fallen to his forearm to back up to his shoulder. 

“My pleasure, also would you like to stay in the room you were in from before?” Ivan asked. “There are many other rooms if you don’t want that one.”

“Nah. That one was just fine, i'm not too picky,” Alfred stated opening the door for them both and placing his belonging at the end of the bed. Some of the clumped soil fell to the carpeting as Ivan placed it on the ground. 

“Bathroom is right there,” Ivan said, pointing to the other closed white door. “I’ll be in the kitchen, starting dinner.”

“Alright, thanks big guy,” Alfred said leaning down and opening his suitcase to search for clothes and anything else he needed for his bathroom visit.

Ivan walked out and went to do as he said. Making dinner for them would be simple, lucky for them both Belarus kept the pantry stocked while she stayed. So there was enough fresh food to make a large meal, and Alfred would surely be ravenous. 

Ivan skipped a little to the kitchen while humming, finally he and Alfred could be alone and enjoy each others company again. If Alfred would be up to it they could even go sight seeing either tonight or tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 10 will be coming! But due to becoming extremely busy all of a sudden writing time has become hard to come by. I wont abandon this fic!! Just updates will no longer be as often, sorry guys. Thanks for the enthusiastic comments as always!


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